Rarities
by DarkWatersWithin
Summary: Victor had always been incredible. With Victor's coaching Yuri was becoming an incredible skater and together they were something amazing and rare personally and professionally. Now they've caught the attention of someone enchanted by all things unique and remarkable and the couple is struggling to stay alive. Tons of peril and hurt with a dash of domesticity.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I got bored of fanfics about the banquet, Anxieties about if Victor will leave Yuri, anxieties over Yuri or Victor retiring, fluff and sappiness or Yuri/Otabek get it on. I hope this fandom gets more variety soon! I need a good story to sink my teeth into with some PERIL! So I wrote this...it got significantly bigger than I expected though...whoops!**

Victor woke in a state of bliss. He was tucked deep inside a pile of thick fluffy blankets like a cloud cocoon and he could feel the soft warm skin of Yuri's back pressed against his torso, perfectly aligned, breathing soft and shallow in sleep. He had an arm thrown around the young man's waist, palm pressed against his chest and he could feel Yuri had interlaced their fingers sometime in the night. They had been married a little over a year now. Moving Yuri into his place had been simple and taken less than half a day. He had few personal belongings except for skating supplies and his posters of Victor. Being embarrassed by them Yuri had tried to throw them out but Victor made a pouty face, lip quiver included, and questioned how he could throw away such an important childhood artifact. Victor would never forget the way he'd softly set down the stack of posters on the dresser, mind whirling for a way to get out of it. He'd suddenly charged him and aggressively tossed him backwards onto the bed, practically pouncing after so he was between his legs, hovering so dangerously close to his lips and whispered.

"Why would I cling to childhood dream, when I'm _so ready_ for _adult fantasy_." their tumble had been fast and passionate. One of Victor's favorite times if he were asked. The tactic had _almost_ worked. The favorite poster of all now hung on the inside of the front closet door where they kept the dog's food and the dvd collection and the rest had been sent on to young new owners with childhood dreams of their own. After the initial unpacking, and a few other similar debates, most of which had Victor as the sexual manipulator, they'd settled into domestication comfortably. The flow of these memories put him in the mood for a morning romp. He grinned and began planting soft sucking kisses on Yuri's neck and crook of his shoulder then began to nibble his ear.

"Nnngh...Nnngh...Noooooo...I'm too comfy to move." Yuri groaned not yet awake and not at all happy being disturbed. Floating on a fluffy warm cloud, not a flaw in the world, until the sex beast showed up on his cloud.

"Noo, there's no such thing as too comfy for sex my dearest piggy." The hand he held at Yuri's chest move to a nipple and began to tease it. He groaned again.

"Can't you sex me without me having to move?" He whined.

"Let's see!" Yuri snorted as Victor extricated himself from their entanglement and suddenly dove headfirst beneath the blankets to check. "Nope, sorry, it just wouldn't work, it has to be done!" Before Yuri had a chance to wonder he was flipped onto his back with a yelp. Victor shuffled to straddle Yuri's body, his shapely buttocks slowly emerging from the blankets far too close to Yuri's face. He shook his tushie at him teasingly, the ever hardening dick far too close for Yuri's comfort. He slapped a cheek hard, leaving a bright red print on the fair flesh, then grabbed Victor's pillow and laid it across his face as a shield. He just wanted to sleep. But Victor had his hot wet lips around him, and he was getting hard, and before he knew it he was panting in time with each oral stroke and even squirming just a touch with pleasure. He pulled away the pillow, surrendering the idea of sleep, and began reciprocating the attention. The room filled with their gasps as they grew riled. A sharp snap of a cap sounded and moments later Yuri felt Victor's slick slender fingers pressing inside of him.

"Nnngh, that's the spot. Keep that up and I won...wait...are you keeping bottles of lube down there?" He suddenly realized Victor never left the foot of the bed since he first tunneled in there. There was a loud slopping pop as he pulled off his balls.

"Maybe." Yuri smacked the lump under the blankets he suspected was Victor's head with the pillow. The punishment done he reached to the nightstand for his own jar of lube. Victor positively quivered with pleasure as Yuri began to stretch him and flick that one spot inside him that made his spine tingle. Beneath the covers Victor stopped his ministrations and was swearing in Russian. He was ready. Yuri stopped, which made his lover whimper, and shuffled himself and the pillows until he was sitting upright, his legs propped comfortably and spread immensely wide. He grabbed Victor by the hips with one hand and backed him up, guiding his cock so the head pressed teasingly against his entrance and rimmed it for a moment. Victor pulled the blankets off himself revealing his blushed, sweaty body, back arched sharply. "Yes, take me!"

Yuri did. He pulled him onto his cock in one swift motion, balls deep, and got him started on the tempo. He sat back and admired the view as Victor thrust himself rigorously, the musk of sex filling the room. At that pace it was not long at all before he had Yuri writhing and gasping on the edge of orgasm. He may have been known for endurance on the ice, but in bed Victor's sex appeal affected him so intensely he always came first and quickly. It worked well for them. Victor would ride him first and then once he came he'd turn around and pound him till he saw stars and got his own finish. He bucked and jerked as he tipped over the edge. After a moment Victor turned, threw Yuri's legs over his shoulder and rode him hard, headboard hitting the wall, until he finished. With a flirty slap to the thigh Victor let him roll to the other side of the bed and stretch a minute. "Mmmm, that was nice! I'll change the bed."

"I think I'll grab a shower. No you can't follow me. Last time you followed me in I didn't get a thing done and Yurio said it was awful early to be letting myself go." He complained log rolling towards the end of the bed.

"Don't let what the other ice wives say bother you. My opinion is all that counts." Victor chuckled with the look of a proud peacock.

"I'll be sure to tell Yurio you called him an ice wife."

"Nooo, don't do that!" Yuri sauntered towards the bathroom.

"Oh and one more thing," he grabbed the blankets and ripped them off the bed and 3 bottles of lube and what must have been almost ten sex toys spilled from the pocket created when they tucked the blankets in under the mattress at the foot of the bed. "You are horrible, there's a drawer for these!"

"This is more convenient." Victor shrugged. Yuri threw his hands up in defeat and disappeared into the bathroom. Soon steam drifted out from under the door. Victor puttered around, putting fresh sheets on the bed, scheduling the day, starting a pot of coffee. Once those were done he tip-toed to the bathroom intent to join Yuri. He went to explode into the bathroom but the locked door held and his head bounced off it. Laughter could be heard from inside and he was left to walk away muttering and actually get dressed.

Their morning went on at an easy pace with breakfast, Yuri complained it wasn't pork cutlets, and they discussed the duet routine they were working on for an upcoming charity fundraiser exhibition skate. They negotiated Yuri would walk the dog both times that day and he could have a pork cutlet bowl for dinner. Then they would re-stock on groceries together. Victor was surprised how much he loved their little domesticity. He loved the thrill of the competitions but more and more he found himself looking forward to the quiet nights home with Yuri. _Starting to sound old Victory. Better watch yourself._ After breakfast they did dishes then Yuri startled him with a somewhat rough quickie on the kitchen floor then kissed his nose and promised to meet him later at the rink. Victor found himself inspired by the morning's quickie. Neither of them were all that into rough stuff and yet, every now and then, it just showed up, institgated by either of them. It was like they were playing chicken with each other's sex life, daring the other to flinch and settle into a routine. It was the one area of their life as a couple still wild and unpredictable. He couldn't get enough of it.

The ice rink was quiet and isolated this morning. He found it was just himself on the ice and the staff was milling around somewhere but he didn't see them except maybe once or twice. He slipped on his heaphones and disappeared into himself, the ice, he just let it all flow together and nothing else mattered. These first two hours of the morning were his to work on his personal routine for the competitions. Yuri would arrive soon after that and he'd step up to be his coach. Their sessions lasted about three hours and then they would do the rest of their day and usually Yuri would sneak away in the evening and do another three or four hours of skate practice on his own. After a while people filtered in, most choosing to sit and watch him skate before they began. There was one old man, he looked maybe in his 50's that did not wait, but he too seemed to mostly be watching him. Victor found himself watching the man as well. He was just casually skating around the edge but he could tell by the way he moved that in his prime, this man had been a skater of high calibre. He moved effortlessly and yet he moved at more than twice the speed of the weekend skaters just here for fun. He shut off his headphones and walked off the rink. He was ready for a break and a hot cup of coffee. Yuri should be here any time now.

"That was some fine skating out there." the old man invited himself to sit on the bench beside Victor sipping a hot chocolate with far too many marshmallows. It reminded him a bit of Yuri. He always liked too many marshmallows in his hot chocolate.

"MMM, you as well. In my hayday I s'pose I was bout your level. Aaaah those were the days."

"I could tell by the way you move. What are you doing here today?" He did a few leg stretches then sipped more coffee.

"I just felt like being on the ice again. You never lose your love for the ice, even when your career is over."

"MMmmm." Victor stared out at the ice as it filled with ordinary skaters.

"But you are young and don't have to worry about that for a long time." He noticed Victor stare at the ice with a far off almost nostalgic gaze. "Then again perhaps not?"

"Skaters don't compete beyond much older than I am now. Retirement has been considered a few years now." He slurped his coffee and the ring glinted. He loved how they'd catch the light at odd times.

"Uh oh, you've been hitched. The little wifey pressuring you to retire? Nothing ends a competitive skate career faster than a little woman." Victor laughed.

"No no, I was considering retiring before we married even, but Yuri wouldn't have it. Even tried to leave me just so I had no excuse to retire. Uh uh, there's the little wifey now. Bye bye." He jumped up and ran off to greet Yuri with a big steamy kiss. It would be the last anyone would see of their relationship on the rink. They were really good at compartmentalizing things. At least when it was Yuri's turn to practice. When it was Victor's he was a hopeless handsy flirt but when it was time for them to work they could work. And Victor worked him _hard_.

It was obvious when he was feeling inspired that Yuri could go far in his career, and that their morning romp had ruffled his feathers. They were doing intensive work on his quad jumps today. He was still so inconsistent landing them. Victor said he just needed to stop pressuring himself and they would start to stick consistently. Yuri, of course, didn't believe him, or didn't listen, either could be true, and was attacking each jump like an angry beaver after a tree. He stepped out of another quad flip and in the corner of his eye he could see Victor sigh heavily and shake his head. His heart sank a little. He was disappointing him again. He threw himself into another jump and bombed completely and went rolling before regaining his feet. Victor waved him in again. He sagged in defeat and complied.

"Let's get lunch!"

"Alright."

"Don't be so hard on yourself, you're improving every time. You should relax a little." Yuri changed the subject.

"How did your practice go this morning?"

"Ah, very good. I don't think I have the choreography quite right yet though."

"Mmm, not hard enough?"

"The technical points are fine, it just does not feel right yet."

"Hmmm. Perhaps you should come with me tonight and show me the routine?"

"It is a nice thought, but I think you should rest tonight. If you push yourself too hard you will only end up hurt."

"But..."

"Nah ah! Yuri, do not argue. You need your rest." He grabbed Yuri's chin, pulling them closer together, tilting his head until their lips brushed as he spoke. "You're not going to disobey are you Yuri?" Yuri was suddenly hyper aware of how he was pressed against the car and Victor's body was pressed against his. He gulped. This tactic _always_ worked against him.

"O-ok, I'll stay home."

"Very good!" A sharp shove sent him tumbling into the back seat of the car and Victor slammed the door shut nearly taking off a few of his toes. He took a moment to scramble to the front seat and they were off to lunch.

It would be nearly two in the morning before Victor finally came home. His rare evening session on the ice had been glorious. He understood now why Yuri always came late at night. The isolation was intense, surprising, perfect. He hadn't worn headphones. The quiet was so consuming only the sound of his breathing and the blade across the ice could be heard. He'd never reached such a crystal level of concentration as he had alone tonight. He'd stayed far later than he'd meant to and now he'd spent the entire night at the rink. When he finally got to the house Yuri hadn't left a single light on for him. He must have been disappointed. Victor chewed his lip feeling guilty. He shouldn't have forgotten about Yuri tonight. He let himself in, tossing his bag by the door and sighed fumbling for the light. He was surprised to hear Maka in the house somewhere scratching on a door and whimpering. That was strange. Maka was never up this late, always tucked in as the little spoon with Yuri, and certainly never scratched at the doors. He finally flipped on the light and his heart plummeted to the cold tile floor. The furniture was overturned, vases, artwork, and personal belongings thrown and shattered.

"YURI! YURI!" He didn't think, didn't question running through the house unarmed without a plan and not knowing who could be waiting. "YURI ANSWER ME!" He didn't.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: So sad, no reviews. Oh well, here's the next chap, a bit short but sweet(I hope?)**

Victor sat on the front steps, hugging Maka tight to him, tear stains down his face that had long since dried. Finding the house trashed, Maka locked in the closet, and the blood on the corner of their dresser with another spot on the floor beside it but no Yuri anywhere had thrown him into a panic. He didn't know how long he'd stared at the blood before his mind started working again. He rescued Maka from the closet, he had a very bad limp, and finally thought to call the police. Now his world was awash in flashes of red and blue. People swirled around him but he didn't know them, and he hardly heard what they said to him. A short time later Yurio arrived looking sullen as usual. He didn't say anything, he just sat down next to Victor and in a surprise show of comfort let their shoulders press together.

"You dog has limp. I will take to vet tomorrow. You must not neglect his injury." He spat some time later. Victor couldn't speak so he only nodded. Yuri's family showed up after a while as well. His mother was crying hysterically while his father held her silently. It could have been minutes or days, Victor couldn't tell, before they were piled into cars and taken to the station for formal questioning. It was midday by the time he was told he could return home. A few officers were sent to stay with him in case of a ransom call. He was left with nothing to do but clean the mess and wait.

"Katsuki." He twitched. "Katsuki." They sounded like they were underwater. Someone was striking his cheek none too gently. He groaned and tried to shift away. "Katsuki hurry up, I know you're conscious. We don't want to keep him waiting all day." A hand suddenly grabbed his shirt and he was yanked upright followed by a sharp slap. Yuri yelped and tumbled sideways to the floor. He was now awake but incredibly confused and disoriented. His vision swam and blurred. He could see the cot against the wall he'd just fallen from and feel the cool wood floors he was sprawled on now. There were two men, tall with medium builds. One with black hair one with brown. The black haired man was significantly bigger, and meaner, looking. The room was otherwise empty.

"Geez Reid, relax. He can't control how fast he comes off the drugs. Why don't you get something to eat or something and I'll take care of this. The last thing I want is this taking longer cause you're impatient ass knocked him unconscious again."

"Fine whatever! He's all yours!" Logan sighed in relief and turned back to his charge. Yuri was propped on one hand, barely upright, and swaying heavily.

"Alright, let's get you back up." He grabbed him by the arms and hoisted him back on the cot but stopped him as he tried to lay down. "Drink, you need to re-hydrate after such strong sedatives. Yuri stared at the bottle, enjoying the feel of cold against his hand, wanting to sip the cool liquid down his dry burning throat but he couldn't. No matter how he tried he just couldn't make his mind remember _how_ to drink. He couldn't think, couldn't focus, so he just sat and stared stupidly at the water. "C'mon just drink already." Logan was starting to feel a little impatient himself as well. The kid wasn't coming off the drugs as quickly as he'd expected and he needed him ready in just a few more minutes.

"What's taking you two so long for fucks sake?" Reid poked his head in and barked angrily. "Andre's going to be here any time now."

"Geez relax it's only been...twenty minutes?! Fuck. Drink the damn water Katsuki, now."

"What's the hold up anyways?" Yuri blinked dumbly looking from one man to the other. He felt like his head was stuffed with puffs and weighed down by sludge.

"Whaaa...?" Reid wasn't in the mood. He wanted this kid ready to present to their boss. He didn't get his first payment until they got that done.

"I'll get him to drink." He snarled, snatching the water bottle then with his left hand and backhanded Yuri _hard_ with the right throwing him from the cot with the force. He straddled him on the floor, pinching the sides of his jaw where it connects to his skull with his gorrilla like hands and shoved the water down his throat. Yuri cried out in panic and pain, certain a tooth was broken though later he'd find it had only cracked, and swallowed back the water fast to keep from drowning. It only lasted seconds but Yuri was left shaken and dizzy when the man finally threw the empty bottle away and got off him. "There, you just have to be firm with him that's all." Yuri lay still, afraid to move, unable to keep up with the pair's conversation. He could feel his body pulling back towards sleep and he wasn't really resisting but someone peeled him off the floor abruptly.

"No, you do not go back to sleep! Let's go, Andre's waiting and he paid a _lot_ of money to get you." Yuri didn't have time to process the statement as he was dragged from the room, barely able to keep his feet and relying heavily on the other man to stay upright. He was starting to get scared now that the sluggishness was very slowly lifting from his head and he could almost think. This wasn't right. He shouldn't be here. He didn't know where here was but it wasn't right. He didn't even know how he got here.

"Ah Andre, it has been a while!" Reid began, his mood immediately improved.

"Ya ya, I was beginning to worry there would not be talent again worth my interest." Yuri observed bleary eyed as they clasped forearms then with then embraced and patted each other's backs roughly. They were still talking but he couldn't hear over the blood rushing through his ears. He was panicking.

"No...No this isn't...isn't right...I have to go...Victor...Where is Victor?" He pulled away from Logan feebly, managing to get free only to have an arm caught then wiggle free and have the other arm recaptured in a scene like that of a mother trying to restrain a squirming child.

"Ah, so this is Yuri Katsuki." Logan snatched both of his wrists tightly but Yuri was completely terrified now seeing the group approach him like jackals drooling after prey.

"Let me go! Let me go! I don't understand! Where am I! Victor! Victor!" He thrashed wildly, voice cracking but no one answered and the man's grip on his arms only got tighter.

"Yes sir, he's not coming off the drugs well though, pretty groggy so I wouldn't expect anything too coherent from him just yet." Logan explained having to readjust his grip once again.

"Let him go Logan." He shrugged and released Yuri, snickering as he went flying then collapsed. Yuri stumbled to his feet but his limbs were awkward, not really his. He felt disjointed and like he'd been stuffed into someone else's body but it was a little too big and a little too small. He got only a few steps and then the world tilted, or maybe he did, and he was falling against a table but he couldn't hold it and he tumbled to the floor again. He tried to stand but his arms were shaking. He felt so weak he let himself sag back to the ground and then his stomach flipped and he was vomiting.

"See, once again I'm proven right. This is why I keep telling you you can't just force them to drink an entire water bottle in five minutes right after they've come off sedation!" Logan berated Reid. Andre ignored their arguing and hefted Yuri from the floor when he'd finished heaving and pushed him into a chair at the table. Yuri felt drained and fragile. He trembled and broke into a cold sweat, his stomach still cramping and head pounding. The reprieve from the drugs effects with the adrenaline rush created by terror was gone.

"What's...what's...g'going...on...wrong...with...with me?" He slumped, resting his head on his arm, eyes closing, begging to just drift away. He felt so sick.

"You were sedated. You don't seem to react well to the drugs. Make a note to just use the chloroform next time I think Logan. What happened do his head?" he grabbed Yuri's chin rotating his head to see the long thin cut halfway between the brow and hairline. Katsuki didn't resist. He couldn't find the energy.

"He was quite...spirited...when we kidnapped him. Not to worry, I checked it, it's only superficial." Logan reassured him.

"Spirited huh? Good, I like them spirited. He doesn't look like he'd be the type. I like that too, surprising." He released Yuri's chin but he didn't sink back down right off.

"Wh-why..." he couldn't finish the thought. He could hardly keep his eyes open.

"Why you? Why did I take you? Well that's simple. I collect rarities my boy, more specifically rarities among ice skaters. It's my own personal museum...or exhibition if you choose to call it that. I take only the best, or those of rare quality and make them mine." He grinned maliciously but his explanation fell to nothing. Yuri's strength had given out and he was again unconscious.

"I'm still unclear why you picked Katsuki. Nikiforov is without contest the best among them, Yurio Plisetski is looking to be as good if not better than Victor and so is that Thai boy where as this one...his career has been underwhelming except for the last year or so." Reid complained.

"That's exactly it! This underwhelming boy, with nothing to show for himself personally or professionally caught the eye of the best ice skater of a generation, wooed him not only from his skating career but into his bed and into marriage. Now he's coaxed him into working twice as hard to coach him while still skating competitively. I'm going to find what quality it is that he has that enthralled Nikiforov, and I'm going to take it. And later if I want, I can just take Nikiforov too."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Woot woot! thanks for the reviews! I do love hearing reviews! This story kind of ate me alive, it was supposed to be a little 4 chapter diddy just to warm up the writing muscles and now I'm off on chapter 14 _**

Victor paced the living room, arms wrapped around his stomach and body hunched as if it would shield him against reality. There were two cops there right now, sipping coffee and asking him questions. They were being quite serious but he felt like it was all a joke to them. They're afternoon delight, could they have a crumpet with their coffee? No he didn't have any enemies. Yes he had some rivals but none who went beyond healthy competition or caused him fear. Yes they had letters from both fanatic supporters and haters of them as individuals and as a couple but no they didn't save any of the letters. They skimmed them to check for anyone that seemed dangerous then tossed them. They would write notes in a little book, black, that seemed to judge him somehow and then whisper to each other and come back with another question.

"Have you had an affair and this is your lover acting out on anger because you wouldn't divorce Katsuki? Or perhaps Katsuki had the affair?" Victor could hardly hear over the ringing in his ears. "Nikiforov...Nikiforov did Katsuki have an affair?" Victor was gritting his teeth.

It was like they'd gone back in time to the first month of his marriage and the media and his fans were all accusing Yuri of bewitching him or claiming it was a phase or a publicity stunt. They would never last they said. Victor would wake up from the spell the Yuri had put him under once the excitement of the Grand Prix Finals was over and realize how far beneath him he'd married and run the first chance he got. He could never admit it but the first two months of his marriage had been the hardest, and most miserable, in his entire life. It hadn't been because of Yuri. He'd been better than he could ever have hoped to get in love. Perfect was far to simple and small of a word to describe them together but it was the closest thing spoken language could create. It had been the rest of the world that made it so awful. He'd worked doggedly every day to protect Yuri from their seething commentary. He'd get up every morning two hours before Yuri just to get a head start. He would coax Maka to sidle up to Yuri's back while he slipped away so he wouldn't wake early and then he could go through their emails deleting nearly a thousand emails and go through their social media blocking people and erasing messages or blocking degrading fake videos of Yuri. Getting to the fan mail was harder. Sometimes it got delievered while he was out, or Yuri would be there with him and demand half the stack because he wanted to do his share of the work. He was always a little odd in his insistence about pulling his weight in things like that. It didn't make sense to Victor, it was his fan mail, his lover shouldn't have to be going through it. The lowest point, and nearly his breaking, was when a fanatic had begun sending a thousand notecards a day, throwing them across their lawn and even in their backyard. They all said the same thing.

Katsuki's a slum whore. Leave him.

Picking up those notes every day for two weeks had been like having his soul scooped violently from his chest. Why couldn't his fans be happy for him? Yuri was the one thing in the world that had made him happier than even ice skating and they were trying to tear them apart. It wasn't until Yuri nearly found a few of the notecards that he finally got proactive about stopping them. They had no postage, no addresses, so he figured the person was actually taking the time to throw them across his lawn. He'd asked the local patrol to come by more often than usual as a deterrent but it clearly didn't help. He chose a night before a day off from skate practice and got Yuri very drunk then tucked him into bed early with Maka. As soon as it was dark he selected a large rock about the size of a golf ball and went the roof and waited. It was nearly one in the morning, he was frozen, before he spotted his target. He didn't notice Victor on the roof, he hadn't even looked. He was winding up to throw his first handful when Victor let loose the rock and landed it squarely over his left eyebrow. He hit the ground hard and when he stood Victor realized he was a kid, not older than Yurio at most and bleeding heavily. There was a twinge of guilt until he thought about all the hurt it would have caused Yuri if he'd found those letters.

"Stay. Away. From. My. Family." He didn't know if it was the violence when he's normally so gentle or the dangerous tone in his voice but he never saw the kid or the notes on the lawn again.

"Nikiforov. Nikiforov is Katsuki having an affair?" He couldn't answer. There was a lump in his throat and he couldn't breathe past it. One of the officers leaned and whispered to the man asking the questions.

" _The faithful one's always have a hard time admitting their lover's are slimy cheaters."_ Victor snapped whipping up a coffee cup and shattering it against the wall.

"There's no affair damnit! Yuri would never cheat on me! I would never cheat on him! We're perfect! Everything's perfect! Why won't anyone just let us be happy!" He hyperventilated uncontrollably, world turning red then getting all watery as his legs gave out. People were all around him talking to him, giving orders but he could hardly hear them. The room was spinning and suddenly he couldn't hold the contents of his stomach.

"C'mon honey just take a deep breath, in and out nice and slow." It took him a minute to realize it was Yuri's mother directing him. He tried to comply but there was a vice like ice around his heart and god he couldn't _breathe!_ He heaved again but there was nothing to produce and it felt like he pulled a rib out of place before he finished.

"What is wrong with you talking to him like that! His husband is missing and you're accusing them of affairs and jealous lovers and talking down on Yuri like he's trash!" His mother in-law continued to berate them but he didn't hear her. He was too busy staring at his trembling hands sitting with his back against the couch where they'd put him. His hands didn't even seem like they were his. He felt pathetic and weak. Yuri would be ashamed and disappointed. He always thought of Victor as the strong one in their relationship but here he was a sobbing mess. The front door slammed and Yurio returned with Maccachin.

"Dog is fine. Make him rest few weeks. Take pills morning and evening. Hey dumbass get off floor this isn't kiss and cry." Yurio gave him a light kick and threw Maka's bottle of pills at him and wandered off to let Maka outside. Victor just stared at Yurio's back while the women followed him clucking for him to be nicer. He couldn't say why but all of the sudden he felt okay, calm again. Yurio treating him exactly the same, not coddling him, not being nice or gentle had grounded him. He picked himself off, apologizing for the scene and before Yurio could see it coming he engulfed him from behind in a bear hug. "H-hey let go idiot! Stop this hug!" The grandfather clock chimed and what little relief Victor felt was gone. His posture sagged and the look of fear shone in his eyes again.

"Two days. He's been gone two days now." The room went silent. The door bell ringing made everyone jump except the officers. Victor hurried to the door imaging Yuri on the other side and threw it open so hard he startled the postman.

"Woah! Easy on the coffee buddy. I've got a package for Victor Nikiforov." Victor saw the sender's name, Yuri Katsuki, and snatched the package ripping it open before the postman or the cops could stop him. He was going to get an earful for opening the package without letting them check it under the circumstances. He retreated into the living room shaking the contents of the package into his hand. A single flash drive, no note dropped into his palm. He let the envelope fall away and turned the drive over finding a small white label on the back. The writing sent an ice shard right through his heart.

"Yuri...on Ice..." Victor couldn't be stopped. Logic and common sense escaped him and no one could catch up to him. He threw open his laptop and plugged in the drive. the officers were swearing in frustration but Victor didn't hear them. He was too busy following the link that instantly popped up that also said 'Yuri on Ice' and then...there he was, like a snapshot of a dream, gliding along on the ice, and until Victor looked closely it was almost like none of this was real and he was safe and sound practicing at the Ice Castle. But then...he looked close.

When Yuri woke again he felt far more alert and coherent. He remembered now being at home waiting for Victor to return. While he waited he'd been making some desserts, Victor's favorite pastry puff, one of the few things he could cook really well. Maka begged relentlessly but he wasn't going to risk another steam bun incident and gave him a chewing bone to appease him instead. It worked for about half an hour. They were cooling on the counter, he was curled up with Maka on the couch watching a movie when the men had come. He'd put up a valiant fight and made the men chase him through most of the house, even Maka tried to defend him but a few brutal kicks had him subdued and then he was locked away in a closet. He hoped the loyal poodle was okay. The chase ended when he was cornered in the bedroom and a hard push bounced him off the dresser. While he was stunned they'd pinned him the floor and shoved the needle up his arm and he was gone.

Now he found himself alone in the room with the cot. He had a headache but he was clear headed again. There had been a water bottle and a bowl of grapes with a few slices of deli meat which he ate and drank not realizing how parched and ravenous he was until he actually had food to eat. He felt sapped of strength but not so much as before the meal. Now he was being as quiet as possible and searching the room for a way to escape, or a weapon to defend himself. He sighed. Nothing. The lock turned and one of his captors leered at him.

"Let's go, and don't try anything or I'll knock your brains out." Reid grumbled. He was tired of chasing this kid around. He prefered the catches that just crumbled into submission. Yuri stayed at the back of the room, staring at him warily. He couldn't remember his name but he had a vague and and frightening memory of him and he didn't want to get close. "Fer fucks sake." Reid growled and went in after him. Yuri tried to dodge but Reid had years of experience handling his hostages and it was nothing to time a backhand to his jaw then grab a wrist and twist his arm too sharply behind his back. Yuri cried out, fire lacing up his arm and through his shoulder as he was forced to follow after the man bent in half. Thankfully they didn't go far then Reid was twisting a hand in his hair and yanking him upright. A few hairs pulled free and he winced and squirmed.

"Ah there we are! It's so great to get started!" Andre clapped his hands and got up from the table and rounded on Yuri like a curator examing his favorite exhibition piece and he was _way_ too close for Yuri's comfort. He tried to lean away as the man leaned into him, looking him up and down, but with his arm pushed almost to his shoulders he had nowhere to go and his muscles were burning. "I know, it'll be just perfect!" He ran over to a pile and Yuri frowned. It looked like it was a massive pile of skater's costumes. He ran back and held a costume against Yuri like he was checking the size. "Yes this is perfect! Quickly, put this on Katsuki." He was suddenly released and tossed the outfit.

"What? Wear this?" He blushed and cringed looking at it confused and worried. He was really uncomfortable with the way the man was looking at him and with the costume itself. Christophe would have loved the highly sexualized attire but he felt like a piece of meat just thinking about wearing it.

"Yes my boy, don't you understand? Victor saw something in you, some quality he couldn't resist. It called to him so strongly he put aside his own career to save yours and his dignity to be in your bed and his very country to be your husband and now _you're mine._ "

"No...no I won't do this." Yuri threw down the costume and backed away from them looking for his way of escape. He sidled away from Reid, and Logan as he tried to flank him, but he didn't think to worry about Andre. He didn't seem like he would participate in a physical confrontation, but he did. He swooped faster than Yuri would've expected and had him by the throat in a flash. He gagged and choked clawing at the man's hand desperate for air but he couldn't get a wisp of oxygen. Andre slammed him against the wall and crushed his throat even harder. His arms fell to his sides too heavy to lift, vision filling with black spots.

"Now you listen and you listen good. Everything Victor had, you're qualities, your atributes, your skills and desires, I own _everything_ now. If I want it, your soul, your mind, your body...it's _mine_." He threw Yuri down, wheezing rapidly at the rush of much wanted air, enjoying how he trembled. He was too terrified to argue as he was forced to change in front of his captors, ears and neck red with shame.

"Wh-what now?" So far he hadn't seen an ice rink anywhere. He whobbled on the skates unnaturally but they were at least half a size too small. He was trying not to think about it or the dangers it posed. Reid grabbed his arm and cranked it around his back again hauling him through two more room and then they were in the rink. It was an exact replica of the rinks he was used to skating in size and design though it lacked spectator bleachers. He was immediately shoved onto the ice without time to stretch and landed hard on his butt. The skates were going to be a big problem.

"Now my dear Yuri Katsuki, you skate and I suggest as you skate, you skate to amaze me. Your life depends on it."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: So to avoid needless death(that'll happen later maybe?) I have posted the next chapter!**

Sweat dripped into his eyes making them sting. Spasms worked up and down his legs as he pumped across the ice but he couldn't stop. He couldn't rest. He had to keep skating, literally, if he wanted to live. That's what Andre had told him. Music had filled the rink and he skated. He skated whatever came to his mind because he had no choreography and prayed to whatever god or fate that was listening that Andre was impressed, or at least amused. That had been hours ago. He didn't know how many exactly but he knew with Victor they usually went about three hours, sometimes four, with a half hour break for lunch in the middle and this was far longer and no breaks except perhaps five minutes and that had only been offered once so far. He didn't know how much longer he could hold up. His stomach was chewing his spine and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth with thirst. He could feel blood filling his skates as the flesh was worn off his feet from the too small size skate but he couldn't change that. He had no power, no choice. Despite his reluctance he threw himself into a triple toe loop. He landed funny a bolt of pain shooting through his ankle. He wobbled and lost it landing hard on his knee. He tried to get up but his muscles shook and he couldn't control the skate sending him crashing back down on the knee. He sank to the ice completely. He knew what was coming, could already hear the footsteps of either Logan or Reid on the ice headed his way. For this moment, no matter the cost, he could finally lay down.

"Leave him alone damnit! He's exhausted!" Victor screamed at the laptop screen, watching helplessly as they kicked Yuri hard in the stomach again and again and again. He was standing at the kitchen table, alone with the officers, while everyone else had scattered to sleep. It was nearly three in the morning now. They had been reluctant to leave him but they couldn't keep awake longer and he refused to follow them to bed as well. He couldn't look away or take his eyes off Yuri. The whole attack had started because he'd fallen and failed to get back up. It wasn't a bad fall but he'd been skating for six hours that Victor had seen and he'd already been on the ice, for some time he guessed, when they got the video link in the first place. Yurio shuffled into the room to stand behind Victor. He didn't say anything. He just stood there with him and eventually grabbed another chair and a cup of coffee. After a few minutes allowing Victor to yell at the screen while Yuri was beaten he yanked him back into the chair.

"Sit down shut up. You'll wake others." Thank goodness about the same time they'd stopped kicking Yuri and pulled him to his feet and he was skating again. He was hunched and shaking. As he moved he was slow and cumbersome. They were able to figure out that he was expected to spontaneously choreograph a routine to the music as he heard it. They suspected he was under threat if he did an easy or simple routine because in the beginning he was skating hard like he did in competitions. Even then though he couldn't land the jumps right, not one. Even if he landed them and didn't fall or step out there was an ugliness to them. The closer Victor looked the more he realized Yuri was struggling with all aspects of his skating. It all looked like he was barely managing and it only got worse the longer they made him skate.

"His skates look small." Yurio supplied. It all fit together. It provided him a small relief not having to think that his love was in such fear he couldn't even skate a straight line but it was a miniscule at best. Blood dripped from his chin with his bottom lip badly split. Just skating required too much concentration so he just let his lip bleed freely and didn't try to wipe it away. Thankfully everything settled for a while. He continued to skate, poorly, but he was able to keep moving. He fell after every jump and as the hours passed he started falling going into the jump. His feet would just sweep out from under him and he'd never even leave the ice. It wasn't long however before they noticed he was heavily favoring his right leg. Any time he wasn't doing a catch foot or a spin he was holding the foot almost entirely off the ice with barely enough of the blade in contact to keep him balanced.

Yurio got himself another cup of coffee to keep himself awake. He was going to need it if he planned to stay up with Victor all the time. He frowned on return noticing that Victor had a notebook in front of him, but it was the notes themselves that bothered him.

 _Forehead cut/Above left eybrow_

 _Concussion?_

 _Black eye/Left_

 _Jaw bruising_

 _Neck bruising/choking?_

 _Broken ribs?_

 _Exhaustion_

 _Organ bruising?_

 _Dehydration_

 _Split lip/bottom_

 _Favoring right leg/twist ankle? torn muscles? torn tendons? sprain? break?_

Yurio wasn't sure what bothered him more, that Victor was making the list, or how long the list was already. He wanted to take the book from him and tear it to pieces, even throw Victor a few kicks to the gut for making it, but he didn't. He couldn't. Somehow the _task_ of cataloging the injuries, real or suspected, was giving Victor something to focus on other than his fear, and yet it was concentrating his fears and amplifying them at the same time. The sky was just starting to lighten around six in the morning. Yuri had been on the ice for ten hours that they had watch and only had perhaps ten minutes of rest. He spent each break almost doubled over the rink wall desperate to get pressure of his legs.

"No no no no Yuri stop! Stop! Turn!" Victor rambled panicked drawing Yurio's attention back to the screen. Yuri was was trying to do a catch foot spin, but he was doing it wrong. He'd done everything wrong for the last few hours. He should have had his leg extended upward in a graceful arch, holding the blade of his skate, with his torso upright, but instead his leg was bent in half like a thigh stretch and his torso was pointed down to the ice. Although he'd achieved a fast and tight spin that would have earned him high praise in competition, his spin was traveling. He shouldn't have been traveling. No matter how Victor yelled Yuri couldn't hear him. Even if he could he was probably in no condition to respond in time. His head hit the wall first with an audible crack and he flipped, lower back landing on the top edge of the wall and then he was flipped to the other side and out of their sight. Nikiforov couldn't breathe. He leaned in close to the screen as if he could look over the wall to see his husband. Yurio found himself also shallowly breathing with tension. He knew a dangerous crash when he saw one and this was definitely a bad one.

They could hear a riot of laughter off screen from two, maybe three men and Yurio nearly smashed his coffee cup. He resisted. This cup had been one Yuri had made as a small child with his father. It had sentimental value, and even if it didn't between himself and Victor there wouldn't be any mugs left soon. Victor sighed in relief a minute later, red faced from holding his breath, seeing Yuri pull himself upright and then log roll over the wall. Yurio was not relieved. He had to drag himself to his feet using the wall again, his face bleeding copiously from a long gash that went almost from the bottom of his right eye to his jaw, and where his movements had been stiff and clumsy before they were downright drunken now. He skated a few feet and then fell, got up, went a few feet, fell again but got up. He continued like this for a third of the way to the center of the rink until he collapse and didn't get up.

"Aw damnit. Stupid bitch, get up already!" Someone yelled from the sidelines.

"C'mon babe, get up, please get up." Victor whispered, voice shaking. Yuri didn't obey either of them and remained motionless. His back was facing them so no one could be sure if he was conscious. The shorter of the two men, Logan, appeared walking on the ice.

"These men, they know how to move on ice." Yurio noted. He'd seen two different men on the ice to torment and control Yuri, both with and without skates and they never stumbled or slipped or fell. He wondered if they were ever competitive skaters. They seemed comfortable and competent enough in the rink to be so. No one responded to his comment. Victor was transfixed by the scene before him.

"Get up already." Logan nudged his shoulder with his foot but Yuri didn't respond. Logan growled annoyed and crouched and tapped a crackling taser to his thigh.

"No!" Victor screeched, standing so fast the chair toppled as Yuri cried out, jerking and curling into the fetal position. Logan jabbed him again getting the same response. "Stop it he can't do more!" Victor pounded the table with his fist, heart ready to burst with anger as the man kept hitting Yuri with the taser demanding he get up. But Yuri couldn't. He had nothing left to give, no reserve of strength to use. Only pain coursing through his body.

"Be quiet, you'll wake his mother. You want her to see?" Yurio smacked him hard on the back of the head. Victor stopped, stared at Yurio while he picked up the overturned chair and yielded as the teen shoved him roughly back into it. "Dumbass." The kid sat again, arms crossed over his chest and glared at the screen. Logan had apparently been called off and was dragging Yuri to the edge of the rink.

"Give him an hour, I think he has earned it after thirteen." The one man they'd never seen ordered.

"Whatever." Logan left him slumped against the rink wall and closed the door so he couldn't leave it. It wouldn't have mattered. Yuri was in no condition to go anywhere. He stayed where he'd been put, staring blankly for nearly ten minutes. They knew he was conscious because he would blink sluggishly but that was the only sign he wasn't simply knocked out with his eyes still open. Then he started to move. It seemed to be excruciating for him. He forced himself to sit up properly and then he spread his legs and seemed to be trying to do stretches but he practically fell into every movement.

"He should not be stretching. His muscles may be torn. He will make worse." Yurio grumbled. Seeing the tears streaking down Yuri's face as he did this Victor could only think Yurio was correct. The younger man scowled silently seeing Victor lean over his notebook again.

 _Concussion?_

 _Gash/right cheek to jaw_

 _Back bruising/torn muscles?_

 _Electrical burns_

 _Muscle tears?/legs_

Yuri's attempts to stretch were short lived. Either he lacked the strength or the he couldn't withstand the pain. Either way his comrades were relieved to see him stop. the effort left him panting, eyes closed. Victor was glad to see him drift, finally getting rest, until Reid swept in and jammed the taser against his shoulder.

"Don't sleep bitch." Yuri let out a sob, lying on his side and curled in on himself again. Every time he started to sleep someone would hit him with the damn taser.

 _Sleep Deprivation_

Yuri gave up on getting real rest and tried to attend to his own body again. Stiffly he curled his legs to him and began unlacing the skates. He had been avoiding this because he couldn't feel his feet and he knew that was a mercy. He'd felt his socks were soaking through with blood before his feet went numb and he didn't really want to know how bad it was but he needed to take care of them as best he could if he didn't want permanent damage. Victor leaned in again sensing Yuri's reluctance as he pulled off the skates. They suspected he was wearing a size that was too small but on a video screen it was hard to tell for sure. His heart plummeted to the pit of his stomach seeing the deep red bloodied socks. Yuri wrung them both out and there was enough that it dripped and formed a little puddle before freezing to the ice. They watched as he examined both feet and both were worn into raw open sores completely along the outer edge of his foot and the back of his heel almost all the way above his ankle and on the sides of the heel too then sporadic spots on the tops of his feet. the right ankle had deep black and purple bruising while the left had only a little faint hints of bruising. He replaced the socks and with pained shudder placed both feet flat on the ice. He scrunched his eyes shut, jaw shaking, a few tears streaking down his cheeks from the pain but he didn't relent. The brutal cold ice would reduce the swelling no matter how it hurt. It was all he could do. Victor was just adding to his list, his blood boiling at how long it was already, when Yurio snapped it shut on his fingers.

"Don't let women see." He muttered right before Yuri's mother and Minako came shambling into the room. They looked haggard and exhausted. Minako more than Hiroko. She had resisted getting sleep at all but Minako had convinced her, arguing that they couldn't care for Victor properly in his time of crisis, or Yuri when he came home, if they were exhausted themselves. Hiroko relented and Minako had fed her what dinner she could get her to eat, gave her an evening relaxation tea that was secretly spiked with a mild sleeping pill and tucked her into bed.

"Oh honey have you not slept at all?" Hiroko cooed remorsefully clutching both sides of Victor's head and kissing the top of it. He didn't speak, he didn't dare with the lump in his throat, so he just shook his head. He felt Yurio press the notebook into his lap discretely under the table. He hadn't even noticed the boy take it. He might act insensitive and uncaring day to day, but he was coming through for them when it counted. Victor felt an upswell of emotions and coughed a few times to stop the sob from escaping. It worked at disguising it but he couldn't keep them from coming and jumped up fleeing to the bathroom. He wasn't gone long, and he'd clearly soaked his face in cold water before he returned but his loss of control was still obvious. No one commented. He sank back into the chair, tucking his knees under his chin, heels feet resting on the seat of the chair. An impressive skill for how long his legs were to fold into such a small space. Yurio immediately left and Victor could hear, but didn't register, as he fed and then took Maka out for an incredibly short walk before putting him in the yard again. He had intended to bring the dog to Victor knowing the poodle would provide him some comfort but seeing the way he was hugging his own legs he didn't want to risk the dog being snapped in half.

Yuri was on his feet again when he finally rejoined Victor at the table. If you could call it that. He wobbled and weaved erratically having no control over his course. He was attempting to do skate manuevers but they were disasterous. All his spins traveled and he would hit the wall with brutal force that left him quivering. If he tried a jump, which was rare now, he seldom got off the ice before his feet would whip out from under him or he'd land terribly wrong and an ankle or knee would twist. He couldn't even manage arm movements after having to push and pull himself upright so many times the shoulder and arm muscles were torn almost as much as his legs and back. There was no longer music playing for him to choreograph. His captors apparently had other amusements in mind now.

"Double Salchow! Double Salchow!" Yuri obeyed but failed not even managing to do a single spin. He whole body jerked as if struck for a moment and he curled inward then regained his feet. Yurio scowled. _What was that?_

"Biellmann!" Another one shouted. Yuri tried but he could barely lift his leg high enough to grab the skate blade and stretch it further not at all. He didn't even have a chance to fall before his body writhed again, throwing him to the ice. Plisetski saw it this time. Sometime while he was away the bastards had put an electric dog collar on Yuri and were zapping him every time he did something wrong. _Those bastards!_

"What is going on? Is Yuri okay?" His mother fretted setting down two bowls of fried rice with veggie and cube ham in front of them. Yurio jumped up, the chair skittering across the floor roughly.

"No, you don't watch. Go." He pushed her away from the laptop. He wished Victor would show his support sending her out but he was transfixed.

"But...I need to see..."

"No! Care for Maka, make food for Victor, harass cops, make cops search harder. We will watch Yuri. Go. He would not want you watching." She wanted to argue. Wanted to smack this impudent sixteen year old in the mouth for telling her what to do but she didn't. Something in his tone, that look in his eye, it terrified her and with Minako pulling at her arm telling her to let the boys watch over Yuri, that they could help better with other things she crumbled. Minako shot him a perplexed, angry, fearful glance, that questioned everything but he turned away refusing any answer and went back to Victor. It was all he could do. He felt like he was dong Victor some good. He seemed more grounded now, still barely holding on, but more stable, so he would keep treating him like always. It was all he could do. Yuri was still on his feet, the bastards still making him perform skate tricks like a dog when he returned.

"Layback spin!" Yuri blinked confused by the demand for the female maneuver but he acquiesced and actually succeeded at this one. "Yeahh! You layback that spin bitch! Whore's always perform well on their back." Reid jeered. Yuri stared down at the ice humiliated while Victor made a fist so tight with rage his palms bled. Yurio's phone chimed making Victor jump badly.

"Yakov comes. His plane lands tomorrow noon. You eat that." He pointed at the bowl of rice, tepid by now but Victor hardly glanced at it and it remained untouched. Yurio sighed. They continued to watch helpless. Yuri got weaker and weaker fast. His captors were relentless calling out new commands barely a second after he'd picked himself up from the last and they weren't easy maneuvers. He stopped showing emotion two hours into it looking only dead and glassy eyed. Yurio noticed a new list appeared in Victor's notebook but it took him while to understand it. It was three numbers that he continually erased and rewrote, each number increase, until he realized what they represented. The top was wall hits, the middle was times he'd hit the wall and flipped over it completely, and the third was ice hits.

25

9

38

Yurio couldn't understand how his friend was still getting up.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Here we go again! Buckle up! I'm sorry about how this chapter ends...it had to be done...**

They were easing through to day four. Yuri had spent more time collapsed than skating over the last half day which afforded him some rest. Even with their jabs with the taser they failed to keep him awake and they gave up trying after the fourth attempt and he was able to sleep solid for nearly five hours. It was the first bit of real relief he'd been given. He'd had previous half hour breaks, and two hour breaks, most of which he spent trying to reduce the damage to his body or using his skate blade to scrape ice into snow and eat it. It was the only source of water they'd seen him given, was not being punished for creating and eating snow. When he woke they'd given him the tiniest sliced apple Yurio had ever seen and a handful of cashews it looked like to him. He silently willed him to eat it slowly but in his neared starved state he couldn't control the need and had it all eaten in just three mouthfuls. Not even ten minutes and he was hanging over the rink wall vomiting.

Victor sat silently with tears streaking down his face. Why couldn't he do anything? Why couldn't they find him? He'd heard Yurio hassle the cops a few times demanding the same things but they always told him to shut up and stay out of their way. He always pushed back but he never won. They assured Hiroko they were doing their best but it all felt like empty platitudes. Victor wasn't even sure they were actually looking. He heard them say the video link address was being masked and moved too quickly to trace and they said they knew _who_ they were looking for but he'd been at this for twenty years and no one had ever found solid evidence against him or where to find him when he kidnapped people. It seemed like they were just sitting their enjoying free coffee and food that Hiroko made for them and coasting away from the office. Yuri was lying on the ice again, asleep, shivering roughly. They never let him off the ice except a few rare times to relieve himself and they never gave him anything except that grotesque sexualized outfit. It was a terrible sequin and unlined fishnet design he doubted was ever created for an ice skating show. He had added hypothermia to his list. A gentle hand stroked through his hair.

"Honey, you should eat something." he looked up at Minako bleary eyed. They kept plying him to eat, sleep, take better care of himself but he couldn't. He couldn't look away from Yuri, leave him alone, even if Yurio was here, and Yakov would be soon. He'd tried to eat a few times in an effort to not further worry Yuri's mother but he couldn't keep the food down anymore than Yuri could. Every bite lasted no more than fifteen minutes and then he was hanging over the toilet, or the kitchen sink when he couldn't make it that far, and nothing was ever left. Now he didn't even try. It was wrong of him to try when his list had starvation written on it. He just shook his head.

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not, you need to eat Victor." She cupped his cheek with her palm noting how cold and clammy it was but his attention was gone, riveted by Yuri again being pulled to his feet. She glanced at Yurio for help but he just shrugged. He didn't know what to do. He'd figured out that if he pulled up a chair and had Maka sit with Victor he would make attempts for the food and Victor would pull it away from him out of habit then take a few bites but that success had been short lived as he'd be up and puking minutes later every time.

"Not hungry."

"Let me just reheat this for you." She picked up the rice bowl and left. It was steaming rigorously when she returned and set it in front of him. He didn't notice. She sighed.

"I have to go pick up Yakov now, Hiroko is coming with me okay." Victor didn't respond.

"Don't waste time. Just go, I'll watch idiot." Yurio muttered. He had little more sleep than Victor. He was eager for Yakov's arrival. He hoped the man would know how to deal with Victor. He had only slept when he couldn't resist longer and he was lulled into a sense of security as Yuri was allowed to sleep but it had only been small bouts. Half an hour at a time and then he'd jerk himself awake afraid something might be happening to Yuri. She went away defeated. Victor was oblivious to anything but the live video of his husband and the man following him on the ice like a predator.

Yuri didn't know he wasn't alone on the ice. He was numb and yet overwhelmed with pain and it reduced his world to a bubble of just the ice immediately before him. He didn't do jumps, couldn't, or stances and the only spins were the ones that happened organically on his way to hitting the ice. He kept his left arm pressed to his body wishing he had a pocket or a belt loop to hang onto to ease the pressure to keep it up. It was almost more painful holding it to him than to let it dangle...almost. He'd known what was wrong with it once, but now he couldn't remember. He couldn't remember anything except that he was alone, scared, in pain and on the ice. Sometimes he'd manage to skate circles and sometimes he'd go until he hit the rink edge. It was all a matter of chance with his keeping his right leg off the ice entirely except for the unavoidable split second touchdowns that sent bolts of white fire up his leg and left him quivering. The attack came out of nowhere as Andre whipped him around by the elbow and slammed him with his lower back pinned against the top of the rink wall and had him leaned back over it as he stooped over him dominating him. He cried out panting through the pain.

"Whoops, does this hurt you my dear Yuri." he leaned further into him, pressing his entire body against him. Yuri whimpered and tried to slide away but he had nowhere to go. He clucked his tongue mockingly. "You look so tired Yuri. Are you tired Yuri?" He couldn't make his mouth work to form words so he nodded and regretted it instantly as his neck muscles screeched. "Well perhaps you should _lie down_." he seethed throwing Yuri down to the ice on his back, reveling in his scream of pain, and skid to his knees with one between Yuri's legs, one arm over his shouler the other at his opposite side. Yuri squirmed trying to push himself along the ice away from him but his damaged body didn't work and he went nowhere. Andre didn't even have to hold him in place. "I understand now. I see the quality that Victor couldn't withstand and drove him to abandon his career, his country, his entire life to be with you." He leaned in closer, hand cupping his face and brushing Yuri's lower lip with his thumb slowly.

"St-st-stop."

"But Victor can't realize your full potential, can't bring you to _fruition_. He's too gentle." Andre's hand slid to his throat and lightly curled around it almost teasingly. "He's developed your passion well but with passion he can't make you anything more than his is himself, a bubbly dreamer, never unrelenting never strong." Andre grabbed the collar of his outfit and ripped it violently sending a jagged tear through the thin fragile fabric nearly to his hips. Yuri yelped trembling with cold and fear feeling his warm rough hand pressing into every terrible bruise up and down his chest and stomach. "Victor is too tender hearted, soft handed to do what needs to be done." His hand dipped even below the tear in his clothes.

"P-p-ple-please st-stop." He let out a sob but it was tearless. He was too dehydrated to even cry. Andre's hand shot from his body to his throat squeezing every bubble of oxygen off with brutal force until his eyes felt like they were going to explode in their sockets. He clawed at his wrist but he was weak, uselessly weak.

"You have to be broken a hundred times, beaten like an animal and your soul destroyed until you're nothing but a shell and then you have to be broken just a little bit more so that not even a spark of hope remains and then you have to be rebuilt. An incredible unstoppable beast built from the husk with nothing of your weak old self remaining." Yuri's arms fell to his sides, eyes rolling back on the edge of consciouseness. Andre loosened his grip enough to keep him awake but not ease his suffering. He pressed his nose to Yuri's now bare shoulder and dragged it up his neck and through his hair to the top his head inhaling slowly, deeply. "You smell like blood, sweat, and ice. _Intoxicating._ " He tightened his grip bringing Yuri back to the edge, just about to fall into blackness then lifted him off the ice slightly and released completely. His whole body jerked with his lungs first few desperate heaves for oxygen before settling into letting him gasp and cough erratically. "Logan!"

"What?" He hopped onto the ice, wearing skates this time, and glided over to them skating backwards in two almost teasing circles around them before stopping by Yuri's shoulder. He continued to cough, head lolling, unaware of the two men.

"We have two syringes of the stuff yes?"

"Yeah, why? You wanna use it?" Logan amused himself scuffing the ice and kicking snow across Yuri's face making him flinch and whimper.

"Yeah, I've got an idea for a game." Logan snickered as a chunk of ice broke loose and landed in Yuri's open eye. He jerked and cried but he was too uncoordinated to dislodge it and was forced to endure the pain until it melted.

"I'm not sure you should."

"What? Why?"

"That's rough stuff. We've never used it on one as far along as him. We haven't fed him in days and the only water he's had is the snow he's been making when he thinks we're not watching. As weak as he is it could kill him."

"Awwww, you're just being a spoil sport. It only lasts about ten minutes a dose."

"It doesn't matter how _long_ it lasts, it's brutal on the system. I mean have you _looked_ at him? It could, probably will, kill him like this." Andre did look at him this time. Yuri was insensible, head listing back and forth trying and failing to gain some level of alertness. His eyes weaved unable to focus on anything and were thickly glazed. His skin was sunken as if a force was pulling it into his body and was a sickly ashen color except for the blue tinges at the corners of his eyes and tinting his lips. He was cold to touch and clammy, littered with old and fresh bruises. the cuts on his face remained open and bled frequently from his repeated falls. The left arm had a strange angle to it both in the forearm and at the shoulder. Both hands were bloodied and raw and he was missing a few nails, the rest were chipped, from catching his balance on the ice. Although he couldn't identify the damage, his right leg had a strange swell pattern from hip to ankle and both his skates were turning red on the sides and back as they gradually absorbed blood from the inside.

"You getting soft on me Logan?"

"Psh, I don't care if he dies. I'm all for pumping him with the drug and watching him skate till he breaks every bone in his body and his heart explodes but don't forget I won't replace him for free just because you killed him too soon. I don't know why but you've been a helluva lot rougher on this kid than any of the others." Andre chewed his lip looking from Logan to Yuri.

"Looks like a big meeting, what's going on?" Reid sauntered over bored sitting on the sidelines. His main jobs were to transact the money, glad-hand the clients and strong arm the hostages. As all the money had been exchanged and Yuri had been in no condition to give resistance for more than two days he's found himself rather unneeded and aimless.

"Andre has some _game_ in mind and wants to use the drug. I don't think he should. It'll probably kill the runt."

"Aww who cares, I love watching them run and run and run till their heads pop! And when that happens we'll just get Andre another one! Besides it's been so boring since he cleaned out his collection! Not that it was all that entertaining before either. They were all so old and used up killing em was all they were good for anyways." he grinned pinning Yuri's ear to the ice with the toe of his skate, a line of blood forming, making the kid groan and pull away until the blade slipped and slit the outer edge clean through. "Whoops!"

"Hey, leave off! He's mine to break and bleed!" Andre snapped.

"Awww, you have all the fun."

"Yeah and you've got all the money." he retorted.

"An excellent point."

"I don't care if it kills him, I want to play my game. Get the drug. Now."

"Alright!" Logan and Reid skid off. Logan to get the drug, and Reid getting a comfortable spot and a snack to watch. Andre cradled Yuri's face between his hands forcing him to look at him. He was conscious, and semi-alert.

"I have a game I'm going to play with you, or maybe I'll play my game with Victor. You're going to decide."

"N...n...no..no...le...leave...V-Vi...lone..." His abused throat was like fire just from the small yet massive effort. Andre laughed at him.

"Now that's up to you my boy. You decide who I play my game with, right here, right now." He released Yuri's face and moved to the crook of his elbow and tore the fabric to make a gaping whole for the syringe and then went back to gripping his chin too tightly. He could see Logan returning with the little box that held the filled syringes. "Now I'm going to give you this drug."

"No...no..."

"There's no point in arguing. You can't stop me. Now this drug is going to hurt. It's a pain straight from hell like you've never felt before and you're going to go completely out of your head for a few minutes. But after a few minutes the drug will start to wear off, it never lasts long, and you'll be all clear headed like before you ever met me." He chuckled to himself like it were a joke. "When _that_ happens I'm going to cue you and play On Love: Eros, and you're going to skate the routine Nikiforov made for you that changed your entire career."

"Whaaa? H-Ho..."

"Quiet I'm talking." He slapped him sharply with an open hand. It was almost enough to knock him out in his state but he recovered after a moment. "Now listen closely. This is the part that's going to be important to you. When you skate Eros, exactly like you did in the competition, if you skate it _perfect_ than I'll play my games with you alone. If you mess up, even the smallest error then I play my game with your sweet lover Victor. Understand?" Yuri became distracted by Logan swabbing his arm with disinfectant and then knocking any bubbles out of the drug in the syringe. Another slap left him dizzy. "Answer me!"

"Y-yes...pl-please...n-not with...Vic...vic.."

"Don't beg it's disgusting."

"Ready when you are Andre."

"Good, get started." Andre stood and left the rink settling in the chair a good way back from the rink wall. Reid might be there, and even snacking, but he had a job to do that put him there and as soon as he saw Logan pierce Yuri's arm the munchies were gone and he was ready.

Yuri didn't know what was going on. He was supposed to be playing a game...no...deciding who was playing? He'd known a moment ago when Andre was nearly on top of him, crushing his chin in his meaty fist but his mind was unfocused and confused. He couldn't remember what he was doing now. His body was pulling him back into sleep and he so wanted to go but there was movement next to him, someone messing with his arm, distracting him. He forced his head to turn and look but his vision was blurry and he couldn't tell who was there and then there was a sharp pinch at his arm, a pressure building in his arm and the person left, fast.

At first there was nothing...then there was hell. Millions of ants crawled through his veins biting and chewing, fire seeped through every fiber of his flesh burning him alive, his muscles squirming through his skin like tentacles. He didn't remember standing and he didn't know it as he skated like a bullet train through the rink. He never felt himself slamming into the rink wall only to skate and slam again over and over again. He didn't hear himself screaming or feel himself tearing through his clothes and then his own skin like a rabid animal trying to claw out the disease from it's flesh. He only felt agony writhing through his body as if it were a living thing bent on torturing and burning him alive.

Then...it was gone. The pain, the fear, the animalistic existance, even his body, everything was just gone. He was standing stock still, gasping for air not sure where he was or how he got there.

"Yuri. Yuri, you hear me boy?" He turned sluggishly and his mind crystalized. He was kidnapped. Playing some sick game with his captor to determine who he played his next demented game with, himself, or his love Victor. "Good, you're back now. I'm cueing On Love: Eros. Remember, perform it perfect or your dear husband will be playing my games next!" The threat would have, should have sent fear spiking up his spine, but he didn't have one. He was disembodied and lifeless. He was an empty drone as he floated to the center of the rink preparing to do his routine. Despite his fugue condition he knew he needed to be perfect, knew he had to to for Victor. _Protect Victor._ The music started and so did he.

"Damn, that was one of the best. I bet he broke six or seven bones!" Reid giggled as Andre joined him by the rink wall now that it was safe. Reid's main job was to throw the crazed and violent Yuri back onto the ice any time he flipped himself over the wall, which was quite a bit in his maddened state.

"MMmm, I don't think I've ever seen a better blood lust reaction, but I'm worried, it lasted longer than any I've seen before too. The drug might not last long enough for him to finish his performance. I don't want the game decided just because the drug didn't keep him going long enough." Reid scoffed.

"Yes you do. I know you know a half dose would have been more than sufficient in his condition to get a full performance from him with more stable results and lower chances of killing him but you had Logan give him a full dose anyways, because ultimately, you _want_ him to fail. You _want_ to play with Nikiforov, and you want to play with Katsuki."

"What?!" Andre's offense didn't quite sound genuine. His hawk eyes never left Yuri as he flew about the rink, still skating at a gold standard, even if his eyes were dead.

"You're not fooling anyone. Katsuki is certainly interesting, and Nikiforov is amazing, but alone that's all they are, it's only when you combine them as a pair that they form something rare. You know it. I just don't understand why you didn't take both of them at once." Andre sighed.

"You're right. The cherade is up. I wanted them both, but with technology as far it is now I don't have to rely of primitive photographs, letters, or video tapes anymore to torment their loved ones. Making Victor watch his Yuri suffer..." He shivered with excitement. "and I'll still get him later...when the time is right. They'll be a perfect start to rebuilding my collection from the younger generation."

"Andre, pay attention." Logan called from his far off corner of the wall. He'd moved away from the pair shortly after the blood rage phase of the drug had passed for Yuri to where he couldn't see the bulges in their pants. He was thrilled by the violence of the drug just as much as them but arousal was not one of his responses and he had no interest of sharing space with Andre while he was in that state. He had a tendency to get over excited sometimes and jump the bones of the nearest person he thought he could overpower. He'd tried it on him once, some years back but two knocked out teeth, a busted nose and a dislocated jaw taught him never to try again. Andre was their most lucrative client, accounting for nearly 30% of their annual revenue alone, and except for that one incident they had an excellent working relationship. Ever since to keep things smooth Logan simply put distance between himself and Andre whenever he got excited.

"Ah, he's going to fall apart anytime now." Andre declared seeing the the warning signs that the drug was fading completely.

Yuri felt strange. Like he existed in two places at once and yet still not at all. Pieces and parts of him were returning but in random order. His shins then his elbows, his pinky finger but he couldn't identify what hand it was because the hand didn't exist. His nose, eyes, hair, toes, hips, even as it returned none of it felt like his body. There was pain, fear, and confusion, but it wasn't his either, just an enigma passing in and out of him like a dog hopping back and forth through a hoop for treats. He was aware he was skating, but he didn't know to what or for what. He needed desperately to do his best but he had no reason why. Everything was starting to hum, his body, the air, the ice, everything. He didn't like it. He begged silently for it to stop but it only came harder, louder. He picked up speed for a jump, it was a hard one he couldn't recall the name of but it was one Victor had wanted to see him do so badly. _Victor?_ He leaped off the ice not knowing if he did anything right, and the millisecond his blades retouched the ice his body flashed entirely back into existance and blasted apart into a million pieces again. He crumpled, elbow crushed against the ice, head rebounding so hard all he saw was white, screaming, aware he was screaming, hearing his screams, feeling them batter his frame. He curled into a ball, hugging his legs, the bones gone their space filled with shards of glass, rocking back and forth on the ice from his back to side and back again against will, his body reacting of its own accord.

"VICTOR! OH GOD MAKE IT STOP! MAKE IT STOP! VICTOR! I NEED VICTOR! GOD VICTOR MAKE IT...IT...ST...STO..." His jaw locked, eyes falling into his head, body snapping straight so hard a cracking sound could be heard, source unknown, and then like a fish dying on the dock, his body violently convulsed.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Blood as soft as silk you're like my favorite person! You just keep coming back! Can I keep you? Be sure to grab your Victuuri body pillow to squeeze while you read. It's only getting worse!**

Yakov arrived feeling it was just in time and far too late. The air was almost too thick with tension and despair to breathe. The car ride from the airport had been nearly silent. the ladies had little information to give him except that Yur Nikiforov had been taken from his home four days ago and that there was something on the laptop Victor was watching unceasing but they didn't know what he was seeing. Yurio had been inexplicably, to them, possessive and guarded the area like a mad dog forcing them away from the screen any time they tried to look. They did praise him for doing Victor some good claiming he was calmer and more stable with his presence. When they arrived at the couple's home Minako and Hiroko immediately went to the officers to ask for updates and then to the kitchen and began milling about, never trying to go to the family room where Yurio and Victor still sat at the table. Seeing them he truly understood for the first time the condition for the term worried sick.

Victor sat huddled on a chair, knees to his chin, arms curled around his legs, a faint quiver wracking his frame. His cheeks and the back of his neck was flushed but the rest of his skin was sallow. His under eyes were so darkened they looked like bruises, and were deeply sunken, his face drawn and taut. His loss of weight was dramatic. Even from the threshold Yakov could hear a strangeness to his shallow breathing and he coughed occasionally though it was clear Victor himself hadn't noticed. He continued stared, glazed and dead-eyed at the screen. Yurio noticed him and left his seat to greet him but Victor remained oblivios.

"Yakov." There was no usual attitude. He was visibly exhausted, circles under his eyes almost as dark as Victor's though he seemed to have been taking better care of himself except for sleeping.

"What is going on."

"They take Yuri, beat him, torment him, keep him terrified, make Victor watch. Don't know why. They made no demands." Yakov frowned the grabbed Yurio's chin turning him to and fro to get a better look at him.

"You need rest."

"I'm fine. Victor needs me." Yakov stared him down hard at the unusual show of dedication. "old nag." That sounded more normal. A sharp gasp from Victor ended any further discussion. He leaned dangerously forward in his chair making it creak and started to mutter to himself.

"Don't touch him. Don't you touch him." He craned closer to the screen, breathing erratically face getting impossibly paler and Yurio rushed to lean on the back of the seat before it dumped Victor to the floor. Yuri was flat on his back and a man he'd not seen before was dangerously close to him. His clothes were torn badly and the man was running a hand along inside the rip in an overtly intimate fashion, reveling in the distress it caused Yuri. He was speaking to Yuri but the conversation was muffled. The only snatches they caught were game and Victor and decide. The other two left and the man for some reason tore a hole in the arm of Yuri's sleeve. Yakov felt his stomach clench watching them jam the needle into his arm then skate away a little too fast, almost like fleeing. "What was that? What did you do to him?" Victor couldn't stop himself from demanding answers even if the men coudn't hear him. Logic and reason had fallen away with his ability to eat and sleep. He was expecting them to answer.

"They drug him before?" Yakov questioned?

"No." Yurio felt his chest tighten. This couldn't be anything good.

For a few seconds nothing happened, then everything happened at once. Yuri seemed to explode onto his feet, screaming and clawing at his himself tearing clothes and skin brutally, blood spraying the ice. He skated directionless at unnatural speed he'd never reached before, battering himself against the rink wall never even noticing as he careened over it and was thrown back onto the ice by his captors.

"Yuri stop! Stop it! Please stop Yuri! Don't do this to yourself!" He jumped to his feet gripping the table white knuckled and sporadically lifted and slammed it down again. "Stop it Yuri! Stop it stop it stop it!" Yurio jumped at him, grabbing him by the elbows and with a great struggle pulled him away from the table about a foot. He struggled and writhed still yelling at the laptop which was flipped onto it's lid but thankfully still open, begging Yuri to stop hurting himself. The women came rushing but Yakov barked roughly for them to get out and they did startled. Someone righted the laptop but no one would remember whom and everyone went to a stand still with Yuri. He bleed incredibly, from his face and arms, hands, stomach and chest, staining the ice long after he'd finished shredding his flesh violently. He seemed dazed and disconected from reality as he was given instructions.

"What is this game they talk of?" He turned to Yurio, panting heavily, still holding Victor's arms.

"I...dont...know..." No one moved, transfixed by the strangeness of Yuri performing On Love: Eros as if all were normal. But it wasn't normal. His body though seeming unaware of it's own hurt now, was still was incapable of completely natural movement. The drug must have been powerful, he performed perfectly except for the odd appearance to his motions, until the jump. They knew immediately as he went into the quad flip that it was over. He leaped with way too much force and was traveling at a ridiculous pace through the air and he landed even harder than he took off. He crumpled instantly like paper, crying and screeching in agony as he curled into the fetal position holding his legs.

"VICTOR! OH GOD MAKE IT STOP! MAKE IT STOP! VICTOR! I NEED VICTOR! GOD VICTOR MAKE IT...IT...ST...STO..."

"YUUUUURRRRI! OH GOD YUURI! NO NO YURI! HELP HIM! SOMEONE HELP HIM! WHY AREN'T THEY HELPING HIM!" Victor lost all sanity watching him bash against the ice, blood stains spreading beneath his head. Yurio wrestled him rigorously to keep him restrained but he barely managed while Yakov was barking at the officers to keep Yuri's mother away and get off their asses and find him already. Yuri went slack, the men beginning compressions and Victor lost even human speech he coughed and spat as he flailed against Yurio. Blinded and rabid with terror watching his husband dying on the ice. Yurio lost his grip and was knocked back, tripped, head bouncing off the counter and slumped to the floor stunned. Yakov jumped into the fray and whipped his arms around the skater's waist, trying to catch his arms in a restrictive bear hug. He writhed screaming mindless, spittle flying, kicking and throwing elbows as Yakov trying to throw him to the floor and pin him. Neither succeeded.

"He's okay, he's still alive." Yurio announced, holding his head as he leaned over the laptop watching as the two men sat an unconscious Yuri up and then slung him between their shoulders to drag him off screen. Only Yakov heard him.

"Victor! Victor! Do not fight us! Victor!" He tried to wedge him in the corner, or against a wall but the man was in a blind panic. Days of fear, exhaustion and accumulating neglect were exacting their toll all at once in this moment. Yurio rejoined the brawl taking one arm and Yakov the other managing to corral Victor to a small scuffling space. Just minutes, that felt an eternity, and Victor doubled over, the fight gone, and retched violently. Yurio left to fetch a bucket while Yakov remained, an arm wrapped around his chest, the only thing holding him upright. His whole body jerked and rolled from the effort though he had nothing but spit and bile but his stomach wouldn't relent. Yurio slid a chair behind him and Yakov backed him down into it but he was oblivious. The blond moved to hold the bucket for his coach while the older Russian continued to hold up Victor by the shoulder with one hand and use the other to massage his neck trying to softly draw his attention and calm him. He tried calling his name but he was unheard over the gut wrenches. Suddenly he swallowed harshly and didn't heave again. He breathed erratically. Hyperventilating uncontrollably and wheezing like he couldn't get air to his lungs.

"Does he need an ambulance or something?" One of the officers answered staring wide eyed. The pair had opted to shield the laptop and all the expensive equipment attached to it to try, and so far failing, to trace the video link back to its source, leaving Victor to be handled by his comrades.

"It's panic attack. Get cold cloth for his neck." Yakov grabbed his chin, directing him to look him in the eye. "Victor, exhale, inhale slow, hold, calm down. You must breathe slowly." He didn't hear him as he lurched and tried to vomit again, lacking the strength for the level of violence as the first bout, but this time thin slivers and gobs of blood splattered the bottom of the bucket.

"Yakov?" Yurio sounded scared. Yakov laid the almost icy cloth across his old protege's neck and rubbed his back rigrously. He grabbed his chin again and his hand placing it on his own chest making Victor feel how he breathed.

"You must calm down Victor. Breathe with me." He over emphasized each medium and slow breath. For half a second he thought it was going to work. Victor's breath seemed to hesitate and hitch but then he pitched forward and began to heave again. Yakov was beginning to worry he would have to be sedated to break him from this state when he suddenly went limp, falling sideways from the chair and Yakov barely caught him before he hit the floor. He sprawled across the floor not moving except for a rough shiver, gaze rolling loosely, bright red blotches spreading across his eyes from burst capillaries. "Victor?"

"I don...fffeeel so good...want Yuri...where's Yuri? Please...wanna seee Yuri." His words slurred, eyes drifting shut tiredly.

"What the hell?" Yurio stared aghast. Yakov pressed a palm to his forehead finding him very cold and sweaty.

"He is in shock. Now call ambulance." He didn't check to see if he was obeyed.

"Don't feel good...Wanna see Yuri- where is Yuri?" He started to drift but Yakov slapped his face lightly, bringing him around again.

"Hiroko!" Yuri's mother appeared instantly, tears streaking down her face with Minako by her side looking enraged and confused. "Get him blankets, lots of blankets."

"Ambulance is coming." one of the cops supplied.

"Victor talk to me, don't sleep. What doesn't feel good." He knew the symptoms of shock but he had to keep the man talking and alert. He was degrading fast with his skin a ghostly white and an even whiter ring around his mouth. Beads of cold sweat formed on his skin and his teeth started to chatter. His breathing had taken an extreme turn from hyperventilating and wheezing to dangerously shallow slow breaths with a frightening delay between each inhale. Hiroko latched onto Yurio's arm and fell against his shoulder sobbing. Yakov threw a pile of blankets across Victor and pulled the chair closer to prop his legs on it, desperate to stabilize him.

"Yurio...get girlfriend? When? Yuri...be glad..." He mumbled seeing his mother in law with Yurio.

"She is your mother in law!" Yurio snarled glaring at Nikiforov.

"You shouldn't...date your...mother in law...not right Yurio..." He was fading again.

"Ignore Yuri, he doesn't know what he says. Confusion is sign of severe shock." Yakov admonished. The disruption gave Nikiforov time to drift but a shake brought him around.

"M'cold...s'too cold n'rink...Is Yuri...here? Yuri s'posed to bring...m'jacket...so cold..." He seemed to sink into the floor, eyes closing. Yakov shook him but no response. He slapped his face and still nothing but faint shallow breaths. He felt his heart clench with fear. He couldn't lose his young ex-pupil this way. He may not be coaching him any longer, and he'd been one of his most maddening and stubborn students to teach, always going against what he said, doing quads too young, but he'd be damned if he watched him slip away like this.

"Victor." He pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead and ran his fingers through his hair tenderly in a gamble. His eyes fluttered open but he woke crying weakly.

"M'so tired...please jus' wanna sleep...wanna sleep..." the sound of sirens was a relief to everyone. "f-feel s-so sick...feel sick...wh-why won't Yuri come?" Medics surrounded him but he didn't see them. They instantly snapped an oxygen mask on him and worked on an intravenous line but that caused problems it shouldn't have which raised questions that Yakov answered and the medics didn't like. They finally got the line inserted and taped a little more securely than necessary and began loading him onto a gurney. Yakov backed out of their way noticing the two cops looking downright giddy.

"What the hell're you grinning for?" he snarled a hair's breadth from snapping.

"They were so distracted reviving Katsuki they messed up."

"What?"

"We traced their location!" His heart skipped but a small commotion at the door distracted him. The medics were taking Victor to the ambulance and as they passed Yurio Victor with his last bit of strength had latched onto Yurio's hand and wouldn't let go.

"Don't go...please don't go...Don't leave me...Yuri..." Yurio couldn't figure out which Yuri he was begging for but it didn't matter. He didn't have the heart to refuse. He followed submissively, holding Victor's hand as he wept brokenly.


	7. Chapter 7

He felt like he was underwater. Sounds around him were muted and strange. He couldn't feel anything holding him down but he couldn't move either. He didn't really try. Pain coursed through his body, disembodied as he was he felt it somewhere inside himself. He would be glad of the disconnect from himself if he could muster even that much strength. He was so tired. Someone peeled his eye open, flashed a light in it, then opened the other and flashed a light in it. He whimpered seeing sparks frizzle even after his eyes closed again. He felt fingertips on his neck for a minute then someone picking up his wrist and fingertips pressed against it then setting it down again and a head pressed to one side of his chest than the other.

"Well he's stable for now." It was distant and sharp with an almost echo like listening to a conversation happening in an indoor pool two rooms over.

"Good good! I was worried for a while! I do want to get back to our games soon!"

"A little bag nutrition and saline isn't going to keep him stable long. You either have to shell out the big money to have Jenkins fix him the right way or you have to plan on the next game being his last. I can only patch him enough to buy you a few days and that's if you're not messing with him." He blinked sluggishly, his vision a bit blurred like he were watching them from beneath a glass full of water. They stood over him, towering so much taller as he lay prone on a very low cot. He floated away into irrelevancy. Logan's phone beeped with an alert. "Well I'll be damned. That's a twisted pickle."

"What?"

"I keep tabs on all the subjects involved in our ventures and I just got a news scoop from one of those ice skater celebrity ones."

"Oh?"

"According to this Victor Nikiforov was rushed to the hospital in an ambulance an hour ago but there's no reports on the nature of his emergency or his current condition."

"Are you serious? How reliable is that report?"

"Eh, fifty-fifty, I mean with this source it could be true that he's been rush to the hospital in an ambulance but it might be that he's riding with a family member who's having the medical emergency." His phone pinged three more times successively.

"What about those?"

"Ope, _those_ are the reliable guys, according two these two, ignore the third, the cause of his hospitilization has still not been reported but his condition is stable."

"Oh it just get more interesting by the hour!" Andre clasped his hands and grinned malicious.

"So this bears the question, are we waiting for the scoops or are you dishing out money for one of my guys to get the scoop on Nikiforov's condition?"

"Oh send you're guy! Send him immediately! This could be so exciting to play out! And get him patched as best you can while I consider Jenkins. The game will be much more fun if he's alert to see it." Andre sneered his mind whirling with hellish thoughts. Yuri faded into irrelvancy remembering nothing.

Yakov stood feeling strangely heavy outside Victor's room as the doctor prepared to speak with him. He wasn't allowed in the room yet, not until he saw the doctor. He'd been told he could wait here for him and it would just be a minute. Now it was fifteen. He felt like there was some subtle punishment being enacted and he wondered what they felt they were disciplining. Finally the doctor emerged from the room.

"Well? How is he?"

"I do not know what is going on in his life right now, but as his friend or father or whatever roll you play to him, you must to better than to allow him to get into this condition but do nothing. He was dehydrated to life risking levels,malnourished, and suffered sleep deprivation which caused his instability and confusion. The stress hormones are off the charts, continuing like this could very likely lead to heart attack or other deadly conditions. He's burst blood vessels in both eyes. Normally this is unconcerning but so many are ruptured he may suffer blurred vision and will need his eyes rechecked for further damage. He's also had a small tear in the lining of his stomach. You will need him to sign these before he leaves agreeing he will be in someone's care the first few days." The man handed him a stack of papers.

"You are releasing him?"

"He needs bed rest and food, not a hospital. We are restoring his vitals to normal and then will release him. It should only be a few hours more. He will need to avoid all beverages but water for the next three weeks, soft foods for the next week and please keep his level of activity low. I am also sending him with a prescription of sedatives. They are moderate and should keep him relatively calm. He will have enough for three weeks."

"I can see him now?"

"Yes fine but for gods sake if he's asleep let him sleep." The doctor stormed off clearly in a bad attitude. Yakov just shook his head and let himself into the room, setting aside the papers on the desk. Victor was indeed asleep. His breaths were deep and slow but with a suprisingly sharp exhale. He looked very small and fragile, still shivering a bit. He sighed and fished another blanket from the closet and spread it over his young pupil. Perhaps not so young, and yet one of his youngest at the same time. He had always retained that childlike quality with wonder and dreams in his eyes and an innocent naivety that everything would always work out for the best. It had been an incredible quality for the ice. He endeared to all his audience and put his soul into every skate. You felt every emotion he felt, but Yakov had feared it was cause him terrible hurt personally if he didn't grow out of it. He never did. Would this be that time? When the childlike trust failed and was broken?

"Yakov?" His voice was hoase and faint as a whisper.

"Victor, you are awake. How do you feel?" His color was slowly coming back but he still seemed pale.

"Fuzzy. Where's Yuri? Is he coming?" _Still confused then._ Victor rubbed at his nose where the doctors had shoved a feeding tube down it.

"Leave that alone." Yakov pulled his hand away.

"Itches."

"Leave it."

"Can I see Yuri soon? Miss him." Victor drifted asleep again.

"FUCKING HELL!' Yurio kicked the chair sending it shattering against the wall in a dozen pieces.

"Hey take it easy kid. Calm down."

"Don't you tell me to calm down! You're useless!"

"Now wait a minute!"

"No! Don't you talk! A week you get nothing done! A week they suffer! Now you trace video feed and it's to empty warehouse?!"

"Listen you loud mouthed little-" He gripped Yurio by the shirt but their brawl was interrupted by the front door opening. Yakov and Victor had returned. The cop sneered and released Yurio with a small shove and went back to his work while Yurio went to check on his coach and Victor.

"Well, is he fine?" Yurio crossed his arms across his chest. His mood for the day was firmly set to bad. The change in Victor was dramatic. Where he'd been wound tight with a frenetic constantly vibratic nervous energy now he was slack and glassy eyed and his gaze seemed to be seeing far into the distance and nothing near him.

"He is fine. Let's get you to couch Victor."

"M'kay. Is Yuri here? Did they find my Yuri?" He blinked owlishly, head lolling as Yakov guided his wobbling steps towards the living room couch. Yakov settled him with a mountain of pillows around him and a pile of blankets over him. "Let's get you something to eat, you rest." Yurio reconised sedative calm when he saw it. They couldn't keep this up. If they didn't find Yuri soon Victor was just going to waste away or his sanity, what little he'd ever had in Yurio's opnion, would crack entirely. He can hear Yakov conferring with everyone in the kitchen. Updating them on Victor's condition and getting updated on the situation. Yurio doesn't join them. Instead he opts to clean up the mess from the ruined chair and made a mental note to leave money to replace it. His Grandfather had taught him that much at least. If you're uncivilized enough to destroy something of someone else's, you at least show the decency to pay for its replacement and sincerely apologize. He kept an eye on Victor but he just lay where he'd been put staring glazed at the Maccachin tissue box on the coffee table.

The mood in the home was completely changed. There was no more tension, no crackle of electricity in the air. Everything had gone flat and weak. The laptop and all the machines and wires hooked to it for tracing the video were gone. The one cop was here but the other had gone to work in the field he'd said. They'd lost all energy. That was when it struck Yurio like hitting the rink wall at full force not even trying to stop. They'd lost hope. They hadn't been able to see Yuri since he'd been dragged off the ice, mostly dead it had seemed, and half an hour later the feed had been cut. There was no word anywhere. Every lead they had on these guys led to a dead end. _We're just waiting for someone to say they found his body._ The thought made him sick but he couldn't push it away. He wondered what would happen to Victor if they did find him dead, or worse...if they never found him. Ever since he'd become a couple with Yuri, Victor had been unbearably corny and sappy and Yurio found the man annoying, but now he felt the urge to sit with him on the couch and hope it provided the man some comfort.

Yuri felt this vague sense that a lot of time had passed. He was lying on his back still and the skin hurt from not having moved or turned in so very long. If he had the strength to get up and look there would be sores pockmarking the skin along the whole backside of his body. He felt different, to say it was stronger would be inaccurate, less dead perhaps was more fitting? Or less weak to minimize dramatic effect. Someone pressed their palm to his forehead then slid their fingers through his hair.

"Victor?" Even though he knew the hand was wrong, the touch was wrong he couldn't stop the name from his lips in a desperate hopeful want.

"Shh Shh, he's not here my boy. Your dear Victor did not come for you." He peeled his eyes open to see a blurred Andre grinning like an eel above him as he stroked his hair a little too tenderly.

"He...will." Andre chuckled.

"If he hasn't by now-perhaps while we wait." Yuri jumped, skin crawling feeling Andre's hand upon the skin of his lower abdomen, fingers teasing the hem of his pants. He tried to raise a hand to push the man away and couldn't. He blinked confused and found his wrists tied with coarse raw rope. When had they done that? Had they always been tied?

"Stop it, please stop it." He couldn't stop his voice from quavering. Andre pushed beyond the waistline where boxers should have been but weren't and began exploring the dips and curves of his hips while he exposed and then orally explored Yuri's chest and stomach simultaneously. His tongue felt like a fat cold slug swirling around his nipple. How could a tongue be so cold? That wasn't natural. He shivered from chill but greater disgust. Andre spared no part of his skin from the slimy touch of his tongue. Yuri tried to pull away but fire ripped through his body, especially the left arm and his ribs and legs and he was instantly subdued by the pain, restraints not required. That was when he realized his ankle too were tied. Not together, but individually to the cot legs with enough slack to lay mostly comfortably but not so much he could kick out or clamp his knees together.

"Mmm I can still taste the ice on your skin." he groaned licking and sucking Yuri's flesh then moving to his mouth to ravage it ferociously beginning to stroke him with careless strokes. He flushed with embarrassment, tears streaking down his face, as his body responded properly to the stimulus. He couldn't stop it, couldn't make his body reject the touch or the feeling of physical enjoyment. Then Andre's excitement grew and he got rough to the point of brutal and all pleasure was gone and Yuri was desperate to escape the pain. Andre laughed even as he mauled his mouth refusing to let him escape even for a second. Then Yuri snapped and made the only defense he had biting down on the man's lip with all his might and shaking his head like a rabid dog refusing to let go as Andre screamed. A fist to his sternum had him too busy wheezing for oxygen to hold his grip on his captor any longer.

"You little bastard!" Andre snarled and ripped his sweat pants down from his hips to his ankles and jumped onto the cot using his legs to force Yuri's legs apart until both their legs hung off the cot almost spread eagle. Yuri nearly screamed his purple right leg bursting with explosions of pain as something deep inside him was grinding against itself. "I was going to be decent and gentle even if you didn't want it it could have felt good to you! But not now! Now I'm going to tear you inside and out and make you scream until your vocal chords snap!"

"No no no, please don't do this...pleeease..." Yuri sobbed, voice cracking, his broken body already pushed to his limit of pain. Andre laughed at him guiding his cock against Yuri's asshole and was pressing himself inside when suddenly he stopped, neither entering nor withdrawing leaving him uncomfortably half stretched. He rolled his hips away suddenly pulling his member away from Yuri but leaned in so close his lips brushed his ear.

"No, not like this. I think this show needs an audience. I think _Victor_ should be here to watch as I take you again, and again, and claim every part of your body, your lips, nipples, cock, thighs, ass, mouth, everything as my possession. He'll watch me take every piece of you from him for myself." Andre climbed off of him, throwing his legs back onto the cot and yanking his pants back into place.

"Noooo."

"Oh don't you fret little Yuri. You won't have to be my toy much longer. It is certain though, as long as I keep you alive, condition doesn't matter, Victor will never tell me no."


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: You're all so great! Here's another chapter for you and just to tease you, I've already finished writing this story and am on a oneshot featuring Otabek and Yurio! My sadism knows no limits!**

"We shouldn't be doing this. I should be home wor-" Victor complained.

"You need a break." Yakov broke him off. It was four days since his emergency hospitilization. He'd come home the same day and spent the next two days in a heavily sedated haze. On the third day, with no sign or word of Yuri, no clues or leads from the cops, Yakov had realized with a sinking feeling he needed to start finding a long term solution for managing Victor. He backed off on the sedative pills except enough to keep his mood mellowed and stable. He began encouraging Victor to eat, shower, maybe do some in home exercises to restore some of his strength. Victor marginally obeyed even as Yakov began toeing around the harder topics. He had to consider that they might not find Yuri, or that he might not be alive when they did. What would he do then? Would he continue his skating career? Would he still live in this home? Stay in Hasetsu or go back to Russia? It wasn't that Yakov was trying to be callous, or that he cared about Victor's skating career more than Yuri's life, it was just that he was concerned for Victor's well-being. He didn't think Victor had accepted any reality except that his husband would be found alive. If he wasn't Yakov knew the young man was in for devestation regardless, but perhaps he could prime him and make it shorter and less painful for him.

"I should be working. I'm wasting time going to ice rink." Victor muttered bitterly. On the third day while Yakov tried to settle him into getting by on his own, Victor did the opposite and slammed his and Yuri's social media's trying to work their masses of followers to find his lover. He posted relentlessly, updating the world on what was happening to Yuri and to Yakov's disturbance, posting tamer clips of the video to invoke strong emotional support and virulent reactions. He hadn't even known Victor had been recording the video feed as they received it. The police were going to throw fits when they realized he had video. He tried to discourage Victor. He didn't think the reaction was healthy, but worse yet Yurio was right there with him using his own equally robust social media and before he knew it all of them, Georgi, Christophe, Phichit, JJ, any skater with a following was passing on every hashtag, post and video. They held the world captive with their search for Yuri.

"You need a break. You've been at that laptop for over a week with barely a day away. Your mind will think better with exercise. And I do not like this anything reward you offer for tips on the media." Victor sighed. He _had_ offered to give _anything_ to anyone with information on Yuri, but Yakov had oversimplified the offer.

"It's not so easy. They don't get reward just for tip. It must lead to finding and rescuing Yuri. It cannot lead to empty warehouse where he was some time ago or may have been. They get nothing unless I get Yuri safe and sound."

"This is not good to offer anything. They are crazy. I see some ask you to burn self alive. Another ask you to sire their child and another ask for deed to your home." Victor lay his head against the car window feeling exhausted. This was their third time through the discussion.

"The ones asking for things like burning myself alive are just crazies without information, and what is an illegitimate child or the deed to my home in comparison to my husband back alive? I do not wish to talk of this anymore. You get what you want. I'm am going skating for an hour. Be satisfied." Yakov muttered under his breath about impudence but the conversation was ended.

Getting out on the ice felt like a horrific betrayel deep in his stomach, but to his muscles it felt good to finally move and loosen up. Yakov was right, his mind relaxed and worked far faster now that he was physically moving too. Half an hour into the skate and new ideas on how to spur the search more quickly was whirling through his head. He floated to the rink wall where his phone sat and began to text Yurio.

"Victor..."

"Shut up old man. Until they find him dead, or me dead, I'm not stopping."

 _Yurio, make sure we have photos of the 3 goons up and see if you can arrange teams to do searches door to door in Hasetsu and all the surrounding cities. See if we can get groups just searching streets and alleyways too for signs of him._

 _Got it!_

 _Any good tips?_

 _No but Minako and Yuuko are helping me sort through all the tips coming in, there's tons!_

 _Thanks! I'll be back as soon as the old nag lets me off the ice._

Victor skated away again with a little more vigor eager to appease Yakov as well as get his blood pumping as it helped him think more clearly. He resented the drugs he was on though he didn't know what they were exactly. Sometimes Yakov called them sedatives and sometimes they were stabilizers. They kept him fuzzy headed and slow minded and Victor wanted to spit them furiously but there was this niggling warning in the back of his mind that they were keeping him functional. He had a distinct memory of a not so minor mental breakdown though it was a blur of reds and screaming, terror, rage, and feelings of despair rather than detailed events. He knew it'd led to being completely incapacitated for two days, never mind the week of near starvation, sleep deprivation, and dehydration that played a roll in the collapse. Now he was watched like an untrustworthy child and almost force-fed meals every few hours with full glass of water with each and another in between. He submitted to the meals but protested the drugs vehemently. He lost every battle he fought except on his social media campaign. They couldn't stop him there.

"Victor, let's return." He's surprised. He'd expected Yakov to make him skate far longer and get a genuine workout. This has been a mere stretch of the muscles. He didn't argue. Any minute away from the computers was time away from his fight on social media to find his Yuri. He stepped off the ice, placing the blade guards on his skate and paused for a moment.

"Yakov, I know you mean well, but without Yuri, there's nothing in the world for me." The words hit the old coach like the moon crashing on his head. "So let me fight while I've something to fight for. While I can still _hope_ to get Yuri back." Yakov scowled watching Victor walk slowly back to the locker room to change. A common question buzzing in everyone's mind was what Victor would do if Yuri was found dead, or never found at all. It was no secret that the two were each other's world and followed the other without hesitation. Now Yakov knew. Victor intended to follow Yuri even if it meant to his own death so long as it meant he did not have to be apart from him. Yakov had never disliked Yuri, never had any issues with him and Victor as a couple except like Yurio being annoyed by their sappy displays of affection, and had nothing against him. Until today. Today, in this moment, Yakov hated Yuri Katsuki with every fiber of his being. A loud crash and Victor's cry of pain broke him from his anger.

"Victor!" He dropped everything and ran to the locker room stunned finding Victor flailing desperately against one man with his arms around his waist and a hand in his hair while the other tried to grab his arms and both tried to pin him against a floor or a wall long enough to tie him. Yakov barraged into the fight bowling over the man after Victor's arms. As they grappled in the far corner of the locker room Victor took the momentary reprieve to ram an elbow back at his attack, missing but the man was inspired to change tactics and suddenly released him with a shove. Victor wasn't prepared for the maneuver and careened into the metal lockers, his head bouncing and he saw stars as he slumped to the floor stunned.

"VICTOR!" He heard his old coach but he was a little busy gripping the room revolting it's insistent spin. This time when the man went to shove him to the floor and cuff his wrists behind his back he had no resistance to put up. If his head were clear enough he'd have considered they were the men that took Yuri and he would never have fought them in the first place but the damn drug kept him just off kilter and acting a little too much on instinct a little too quickly. When he did make the connections finally he would swear off the drugs entirely no matter the cost to himself, and he just might swear off Yakov too for making him swallow them.

"Hurry up, that went to hell fast." Victor felt himself jerked to his feet, two sets of hands gripping each upper arm and pulling him along to the side door of the rink. He was starting to regain his senses and feeling of panic seeing the backdoor down the deserted hallway approaching fast.

"LET HIM GO! VICTOR!" He twisted to see the old man running after them, an un-concerning amount of blood running down his neck, looking pissed and terrified. That did it. The haze blew away and Victor threw himself into a thrash again.

"No! Lemme go!"

"Damnit!" Someone near him swore as he bucked and kicked still fighting much like an octopus despite not being able to use his arms now. Summer sun blinded him as they tumbled through the door bumbling a few steps forward and a few steps back in their battle.

"Fuck this!" Reid screeched fed up with the whole mess and clamped down on Victor's hair with both hands, swinging him around in a big circle, propelling him with massive force against the white van. Victor rebounded brutally and went like jelly to the cement. "Start the damn van Logan!" Reid picked him up and smashed his head against the van three more times just to be sure he was subdued. He was not in the mood for this crap. Yeah he was getting paid to kidnap this guy but he'd been half a cock deep into fucking a hot woman with her friend along for the ride when Logan had interrupted. They promised to wait for him when he promised to fuck them in sheets filled with hundred dollar bills but his mood was thoroughly ruined and now the job had to go and be a total screw up.

Yakov burst through the door, breathing hard, head pounding, and panicked. They were in the back parking lot, of medium size, and normally empty, but not today. Today there was a white van parked just twenty feet from the door, and about twenty people broken into groups of four milling about apparently searching the lot. Vaguely Yakov saw them wearing armbands branded #save Yuri Nikiforov but what he really saw was the men by the white van. One was jumping into the driver's seat to start it while the other was opening the back and picking up Victor, whom was for reasons unknown to him, completely limp and throwing him into the back of the van. He didn't have to think twice.

"STOP THEM! THEY'RE KIDNAPPING VICTOR NIKIFOROV!" The results were instant. The individuals coalesced into an unstoppable mass, their numbers working for them to overpower Reid in an instant, but working against them as they focused so much on taking down their enemy. No one could reach Logan, having already buckled in and hearing the shout locked the door. No one thought to pull Victor, unconscious and helpless, out of the van and they were oblivious to Yakov trying to force his way through their crowd to do it himself but it was too late. It all happened in seconds, Logan freaked and the van peeled out knocking many of the rolling mass of people away like bowling pins. Just out of their reach he screeched to a stop making the van door slam shut, Victor locked away inside, and then he was racing away. Yakov stared, heart sunk to his very toes. A litany of cursing and swearing drew his attention back to the crowd. He pulled out his phone mechanically and called the police not sure whether to laugh or cry. They'd lost Victor. Taken in front of him in broad daylight, but now they had one of the kidnappers.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: You're all so great to me! I love all my little reviews! Really glad you're enjoying! Here's the next one, sorry it's so short but it had to be broken up this way. Also I just finished another story, a one shot featuring Yurio and Otabek! I'm thinking I'll post it after I finish posting this story!**

"Are you listening to me?"

"The televisions don't do him justice. For as good as our technology is they still fall short of him." Someone touched his face. Their fingertips stroking from his temple, down his cheek to almost his chin. He jerked slightly startled by the touch. His head was pounding and his mind was feeling foggy and confused in this half awake state. He hadn't found the energy to open his eyes yet. He was only just starting to hear the conversation around him.

"Andre are you listening to me?" He felt the man pulled away from him, not straddling his lap anymore so the other could more effectively argue with him. Victor wasn't sure when he'd realized the man had been in his lap, or when he'd decided to open his eyes but he apparently did. The world was too bright and very blurry. He blinked successively to keep his eyes from watering and eventually the world cleared. The men bickering were both a bit taller and broader shouldered than average but not by a large amount and certainly they were fit and healthy. He did not relish the thought of getting in a fight with them. He found himself slumped against the wall of a small room, his head aching terribly and finding a massive knot on his forehead with a split in it when he probed his skull. Neither man seemed concerned about keeping an eye on him and he wasn't watching them. Something else, something so much more important had caught his eye.

"Yuri! Yuri!" He scrambled to his feet, stumbling as the world titled but he didn't let it stop him. He practically crawled to the cot, short enough he could lean over it on his knees. "Oh babe." Victor blinked away tears seeing him like this. He was thin and gaunt. His pallor sickly pale except for the too many bruises of yellows and blues, no longer swollen except for a fresh black eye and some new choke marks on his neck. His condition was only worse the farther down his body he looked. His left arm he strongly suspected was broken, not even considering the severe mottled bruising and lingering swelling. His wrists were torn and raw from the harsh ropes that tied them too tightly to the cot. He held his right leg tensely but through the sweatpants he couldn't see why. He could see pricks in his elbow and hand from i.v lines but now they were gone. There were ropes on both his ankles with long tethers rather than being tied straight to the cot like his wrists. He shivered feebly and seemed asleep or unconscious but his eyes darted anxiously beneath the lids.

"Andre listen to me. Reid is a mercenary and he doesn't care who buys him. He'll cut a deal with the cops fast and it'll even be a cheap deal. We have to dump these two and run."

"Tch! I'm not giving them up now that I've finally got the pair!"

"Then we take them with us! Katsuki may not make the trip but regardless we can't stay here! Reid will sell us out!" Victor should have been paying attention to their argument. He probably could have found a way to use it to his advantage but his attention was riveted by Yuri. He was whimpering, agitated by the heated argument.

"Shh Shh, it's okay babe. I'm here. Can you wake up for me Yuri? Please wake up Yuri." He felt like he was begging more than consoling his husband. He cupped his hand over his forehead but Yuri flinched and tears began to streak down his cheeks. "Shhh, don't cry my love. I'm here now, just wake up. I'm here Yuri." Victor isn't aware he too is crying. Even when he does rouse, Yuri is confused, terrified, and hurting badly. He doesn't recognize Victor, he's too disoriented, and the men's squabble is making it worse. Victor feels a new depth of heartbroken.

"What the hell did you do to him?!" He flew into a rage jumping up and throwing a fierce punch. He didn't even know which one, his vision was so tainted with rage but he got one of them and it felt _good_ feeling the skin split beneath his knuckles. He wasn't prepared for both of them to slam him to the floor. He hadn't had a plan, just pure anger burst into retaliation. Before he can stop it his hands are tied with rope and he's leashed to an iron ring bolted into the far wall.

"Damnit Andre that's it! Are we dumping these two and getting outta here before the cops get here or not?"

"I never took you for a coward Logan."

"The hell with this. I've done the job I was paid to do. You're on your own. I'm not getting arrested over this." Logan stormed out eager to get away. Victor leered at the man, straining against the ropes mindlessly. He sauntered dangerously close to Yuri suddenly and smiled down at him like a predator over a crippled rabbit.

"You stay the hell away from him." Victor jerked at his restraints.

"You know, before I had you brought here, and before he did this," the man brushed a thumb across his lip. Victor noticed for the first time it wasn't just split but had a long jagged tear that looked almost shredded. If Yuri did that he couldn't be prouder. "and I decided it would be more fun to have you as an audience. We were in the middle of a lovely game. I think we left off right about...here." He shoved his hand down Yuri's sweatpants abruptly, enjoying the sound of his weak gasp and then feeble sobbing as he tried weakly to pull himself backwards off the cot and away from him.

"Don't you touch him!" the vehemence of his tone would have sent tremors up the spines of anyone that knew Victor. Murder was in his mind. Andre felt secure to disregard him however as he was tied to the wall. Yuri clenched his eyes shut feeling the fingers forcing their way inside him and bit his lip trying not to cry out with pain. He didn't really know what was going on except that Andre was here and someone else too, someone who hadn't been here before. He was so tired, so fogged over with the rippling pain he couldn't find recognition of the new person. They sounded furious.

"After he tore up my lip I was going to do this, tear him up, force his body and make him never forget that I owned him," Andre pulled at his pants easing them tauntingly down his thighs towards his ankles. Victor went wild against the restraints realizing with glimmer of hope that the ring bolted to the wall was built poorly. The screws were too small, too short, and if he pulled hard at a slight diagonal they would wiggle and pull out a little. He threw himself against it with his full body weight. Andre didn't notice the danger. He was enthralled by his conquest climbing between Yuri's legs still monologing not caring if anyone listened. Yuri had gone stalk still, hoping to avoid more pain, quietly begging to pass out. He quivered hearing the rattle of a belt buckle.

"Nnnnggg.." There was a loud snapping and a clank followed by a shout then the cot jerked roughly along with his right leg. Yuri screamed seeing a flash of white and went limp.

Victor surrendered to his fury pounding Andre again and again as his momentum slammed them both to the floor with Andre beneath him. With his hands tied his blows were clumsy but powerful. Andre kicked out, catching him in the stomach with his knee and with a second thrust of his whole leg flipped him up and over himself and crashing to the floor on his back. Victor wheezed lungs stunned into paralysis giving Andre the time to get to his feet, grab his tied wrists and kick his ribs brutally. Victor cried and flailed trying to kick back, catch his leg and trip him, anything to make it stop but he was too close and the blows came too quickly to recover. Desperate he jerked, using his restrained hands held by Andre as leverage, propelling himself almost upright landing a glancing headbutt and let himself fall using the full weight of his body to drag Andre with him. They rolled exchanging equal blows neither gaining an upper hand Victor starting to despair, his limbs getting heavy with exhaustion. He had to find a way to win but this man was bigger and stronger. No move was too undignified and he sank his teeth into the man's flesh, blood filling his mouth, with such instinctive impulse he didn't even know where he'd bitten. The fight devolved from intelligent battle tactics to a near drunken brawl of fury. Later he'll be told it was an empty beer bottle Andre grabbed, but in the moment as it clouted his face over and over he would have sworn it was an anvil. He went slack after the fourth blow but Andre didn't stop. His blood boiled, mind gone blank and he wasn't going to stop. Victor's vision was going dark, his body too heavy to move as he teetered on the edge. Shouting people filled the room and the weight on top of him disappeared but Victor hardly noticed. It was all so lilliputian now.

"Get him the hell outta here!"

"We've got them, report we've got them."

"What's their condition?"

"Katsuki's out cold, seems shocky but I don't wanna move him seeing his legs like that."

"And Nikiforov?"

"Checking, hang on." He felt a hand slide under his neck and squeeze a few times. "Nikiforov. Nikiforov can you hear me? Victor?" The quick-fire conversation sounded distorted and echo-y and so very far away from him. He must have been groaning. Someone was groaning.

"Well?"

"He's just barely hanging on."

"Two ambulances are on the way asap." He felt his head being rotated back and forth slightly with great care to be gentle but it was pure agony. He whimpered, quivering and a wavering arm flung to make it stop catching onto the sleeve of someone's wrist and he tried to pull it away. He didn't notice they were suddenly untied or wonder when that had happened. He only knew his action didn't get the result he wanted.

"Hang on Nikiforov, help's coming." The voice was trying to be soothing but each little sound, each little wave of light or wisp of air was torture. A hand fills his own, larger than his own, so much warmer than his own it's almost burning, and just a touch sweaty. It helped. He didn't know why but the hand enveloping his own was comforting and he calmed slightly. "That's it, just keep still, help is almost here. No don't sleep Nikiforov, stay awake for me." He was trying to do what he was told but the pain washing over him was intensifying and he couldn't keep from drowning beneath the waves.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Here we go again! Another chapter for all y'all! Also I need your guys' help! I've got another story cooking and I need pet names for Phichit, something sweet and cute that COULD be used by just friends but is a bit more biased towards being from a significant other. To work! Get me those names!**

Chapter 10

A blinding flash in his eyes, brief, momentary, torture. People talking all around him. Hands all over him. Touching, lifting, and moving him but it all felt far away. There's a dullness to light and sound for a time but a horrendous constant vibration wracks through his body, igniting every pain. Finally it stops with a rush of cold and white flurries then squares of light rushing past him from above. More people surround him bombarding each other with demands and questions and maybe some are for him as well. He can't tell. It's moving too fast. He doesn't understand what they want. It doesn't matter as he slips away.

He wakes again vomiting violently. Hands are all over him, turning him on his side so he doesn't choke. His head feels like it's going to crack in half and the pieces left will shatter again. Unknown voices talking to him, always talking to him but he can't understand. His mind can't track the words. His throat burns and his stomach feels twisted all about before it finally let's him rest. Someone wipes down his face with a cool damp cloth which would feel good but he's already insensible again.

Next time is different. He comes around slowly and is semi-coherent. He's intensely distressed. Something is missing, something so important he can't breathe without it. He doesn't realize he's crying or that he's talking. He's not self-aware enough to know.

"Yuuuri, I need Yuuuri." He moaned.

"Shh Shh, you can see Yuri later honey." A small delicate hand brushed away tears he didn't know rolled down his cheeks. He didn't even have the energy to open his eyes.

"Need to find Yuri...please...need Yuri." He struggled to sit up but Yuri's mother pushed him back down. It was nothing to hold him to the mattress. He continued to beg for Yuri and weep but he never responded to anyone around him. He seemed aware of them but not enough to actually interact. Yuri's mother tried to soothe him, petting his hair, promising he could see Yuri later when he was feeling better but nothing eased his agitation.

"Isn't there anything we can do for him Doctor? We can't just leave him like this?"

"I'm sorry ma'am but there's nothing we can do. He's been through a serious physical and emotional trauma. All this in the span of a week has left him mentally in a state of shock, combined with the side affects of his injuries and being heavily medicated it's stripped him of his coping mechanisms and his ability to regulate emotion. If he becomes severely upset we can intervene to encourage him to rest but for now he is quite mild and the best thing we can do for him is wait." His mother in-law huffed unhappily. She couldn't bear watching him suffer and being told to wait it out was not satisfactory. They settle back to wait. Victor remains unchanged, drifted sometimes and then rousing only to weep without knowing why and whimper for Yuri without his knowledge. At some point Yurio comes, bearing food, and Yurio stay for a bit, and then he leaves saying he's got an idea cryptically. He returns an hour or so later and Victor is awake in his usual state of upset.

"Hey Nikiforov." Nothing. "Nikiforov." He gets closer up and more in his face but he's still locked in his own isolation. "DUMBASS!" Yurio smacks him on the shoulder in a move that is far more calculated and careful than it looks.

"Yurio!" It works. Victor jolts and suddenly he's actually _looking_ at Yurio. The Russian Fairy ignore's Other Yuri's mother.

"I bring you Makkachan." He holds the dog up too close to the man's face hoping he won't focus on it enough to see it's not really Maka but the tissue box holder replica. It's a strange design blending tissue box holder with stuffed animal with a zipper and padding that when sealed up also makes it a plushie. Victor blinks sluggishly and continues his hiccuping sobs then with trembling hands, the first deliberate action he's taken since he began fading in and out of consciousness, he takes Maka. He doesn't just take the tissue box, stuffed animal, pillow thing that is the likeness of Maka, he squeezes it to his chest, burying his face against it's neck. He doesn't realize it but there's a t-shirt of Yuri's tied like a bandanna around it's neck. His whole body seems to curl around it as he inhales deeply and suddenly he can name the sucking void in his chest. _Maka. Yuri. Home._ Something slipped inside of him. Not the disoriented uncontrolled emotions from before but intense focused sobbing of knowing what he needed right then, right there to just keep _breathing._ For five minutes Yurio panicked that he'd broken Nikiforov for good this time. Then the scent of Yuri, and himself, and even a bit of Maka and their kitchen absorbed into the cloth as they held it or it sat on the counter while they cooked, started to fill him. Like a balm on a burn it eases the hurt in his chest and then dissolves it entirely. It takes a moment for Yurio to realize that Victor hasn't faded out or fallen unconscious like usual but is taking deep slow breaths in complete restful, healing sleep.

Victor was coherent outright the next time he woke a day later. His family had been concerned about him sleeping so long but the doctors were please and insisted no one disturb him. He was getting food through a tube in his nose and they said the rest would make his recovery leap forward. It took him a long time to come around but he was lucid at last. He found himself alone in the hospital room, quiet for the first time he could remember, clearly or not, with only Yuri's father for company. He licked his lips surprised by their extreme dry and cracked condition so that it hurt to touch them and then struggled vainly to sit up.

"Tch Tch, lie still I will sit the bed up for you." He sank back finding himself too weary to argue. He found himself propped to an almost comfortable angle and then a fortress of pillows constructed around him with unexpected skill and he realized he wasn't almost comfortable anymore. The throbbing ache in his chest eases, his lower back relaxed and the thumping in his head subsided. He did not he oddly couldn't feel any of his face. It could have not existed for all he was aware of it. He glanced at the Makkachin replica tucked under his elbow feeling a sense of relief he couldn't explain. A doctor stepped in and Victor unconsciously shifted away from him seeming to tense.

"Ah it is good to see you awake today. You look a lot clearer now. How do you feel?" The man was too loud, his chipper tone harsh and abrasive. The room was too cold, too bright and it all seemed to be looming over him. He wanted to nestle into the pillows with the blankets over his head and disappear again where it was safe, dark and quiet, until his mind could catch up with itself but this man was expecting him to answer.

"Foggy." It was too succinct. It didn't compare to the truth. The man leaned in and Victor squeezed the Makkachin toy tight to his side protectively and tried to push away from the man again.

"It's okay my boy, no one will take it." Yuri's father consoled pressing a hand to his shoulder. The doctor flashed a penlight in both his eyes and he jerked away pain piercing his head and groaned.

"I know I'm sorry. Nobody with concussion likes that part. I'm done, I promise." The doctor tried to coax him out from between the pillows but it was dark and soft and safe in there. He didn't want to leave and let him finish his exam.

"C'mon Victor, it'll be okay. It's just a little more." The man his hand through his hair with such a strong paternal nature to it that it catches Victor off guard and compels him to submit. Here was Yuri's father spending his time to keep a vigil over him, treating him like his own son when he could be with his _actual_ son. _Where was Yuri?_ He isn't just an in-law to them. They've more than accepted him. They've absorbed him into the family as devoted as if he were born into it. He surfaces and does what the doctor demands. He follows his finger. Yes he knows his name. Yes he knows he's in a hospital though not which one and he vaguely remembers why. Yes he remembers the week before he was kidnapped, though he'd rather forget. No he doesn't know what day it is but he knows the month and the year. It seems like the questions will never end but they finally do and he's left exhausted.

"Alright, well everything is looking good so far. I'm going to send up some light soup. See if you can get him to eat it all. As soon as he's keeping down food we can get rid of the feeding tube. I'm sure he'll be more comfortable without it." Victor hadn't even been aware of the tube jammed down his nose but now that he was it itched horrifically. His father in law caught his hand and put it back to the bed each time he try to fumble with it.

"Let it alone." He admonished softly. Victor sank back into the pillows beginning to notice the many discomforts of his body again. His ribs hurt with every breath making it hitch in his chest but his stomach and even parts of his hips hurt. His head throbbed in time with his heartbeat and anything in between ached just by existing. His face was still gone. He couldn't understand why he didn't have a face. He could feel the inside of his nostrils and the tube forced down them, but not his face. Surely it was still there?

"I think it's best to wait a few more days before the next surgery. I'd like to see him with a little more strength recovered before we put him through another." _Surgery? Another surgery?_ He didn't remember a first surgery. _What are they surgery-ing?_ He stops paying attention. He's feeling tired and stretched. He wants to just wander back into sleep and he's about to do so when his father in-law brushes his shoulder lightly.

"Victor, wake up, we've got some soup for you. You need to eat." He blinks confused. He didn't remember actually falling asleep or the doctor leaving and he certainly didn't notice a nurse bring a tray of food with some soup and saltines. He wasn't sure how he felt about the food as he stared down at it. He wanted it and he didn't. He wasn't sure he could bear food in his stomach even as it began sending signals of hunger to him. "Why not try nibbling the cracker first and see how it settles." His father in-law suggested sensing his hesitation and opened the wrapper for him and handed him the first. Not wanting to disappoint he snapped off the corner and chewed it slowly. He was surprised to find himself indifferent to the food which made it oddly easy to eat.

"How are we doing in here? Is he getting the food down okay?" Victor startled glancing at the nurse momentarily then his gaze skittered away submissively as he pulled Maka-box closer to him and shifted away from the nurse. His father in-law noticed the movement.

"Aye we're doing well. All the crackers and about half the bowl down now. Although it doesn't really seem to be interesting him even though it's settling well."

"Well it's probably not the most appetizing soup but it should be gentle on his stomach. We can get something more appealing for him tomorrow if he's still eating well." They talked over him like he wasn't there but Victor didn't care as long as no one was getting in his space.

"Are you sure he is okay? He's so subdued. It's not like him."

"Well this is the first he's been awake and coherent in quite a while and as I understand it his injuries were caused by a brutal attack. He's probably a bit shell-shocked. Give him some more time to process and cope. If he doesn't come around after a while we can assign someone to talk to him." Victor curled around his Maka-box trying to tune them out. He didn't want to do this anymore. Didn't want to be their subject in a petri dish, didn't want to hurt and didn't want this lonely empty feeling inside to continue to suck him inside out like a blackhole trying to crush him. There was only one thing he wanted and it seemed to be the one thing he couldn't get but he couldn't remember why. His memory was full of holes and blurs. His father in-law was speaking to him again but he'd missed what was being said. The man seemed to notice his increasing anxiety and tiredness. He pulled the covers up to his shoulders and lowered the bed again but not completely then sat but close enough so he could soothingly pet his hair still. The action worked wonders to ease his frayed nerves but he still had a question burning his brain.

"Where is Yuri?"


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Another chapter for y'all! I hope you're enjoying!**

Chapter 11

Despite how hard the first few days with Victor semi-conscious had been, the following week with him fully conscious and lucid were even worse. He remained uneasy and distrustful of the doctors and staff or anyone that wasn't Yurio, Yakov or Yuri's family. Even with them he was subdued and a little jumpy. He never let go of the Maka-box and when he got overwhelmed, which was often, he would curl around it and disappear beneath the blankets. He had eventually been given the missing pieces his mind couldn't supply. Andre and a man called Reid had been captured but the third, Logan, was never found. They guessed he'd taken his money and run for the hills when Reid was captured. When he'd been kidnapped he'd apparently partially broken free of his restraints and a fight ensued which ended with Andre beating him unconscious with an empty beer bottle. He didn't remember it. The assault had resulted in two broken ribs and one cracked, a bruised spleen, bruised kidney, his appendix had ruptured but they removed it and cleaned everything up before it could cause more than a quick flare fever. He had an aggravated grade three concussion, severe skull fracturing along the temple and forehead which spider-webbed towards the crown of his skull. The orbital bone of his left eye was severely cracked but had completely fractured from the force of his vomiting. His cheek bone had shattered and collapsed and his lower jaw had been dislocated and he was missing two molars. Reid had sold out his partner and Andre and the police had arrived in time to pull Andre off him before he'd beaten him to death instead of just unconscious.

"That's why you can't feel your face. They've numbed all the nerves until it's healed more. Small mercy." His father in-law had explained as if it were nothing. Victor wasn't satisfied. He felt adrift. He demanded to see it in a mirror but the doctor's refused. He asked his family but they refused to let him see too. The staff psychologist had warned them his mental state was fragile and seeing the extent of damage to his face would be as traumatic mentally and emotionally as the kidnapping. They held firm preventing him from seeing. He felt helpless. He couldn't see himself, couldn't get out of bed he was so weak, couldn't see Yuri. They told him that Yuri was in a critical care room and he was recovering but he couldn't visit. Yuri was being kept sedated so he wouldn't even know he was there and his own condition was not strong enough to go visiting other patients. He kept asking and they kept saying Yuri was recovering well but he couldn't see him yet. Victor started to doubt them. He was beginning to think they were lying to him and that Yuri was actually dead. Desperate, alone and trapped he began to shut down. He curled in on his Maka-box with Yuri's shirt tied around it but the clothing had been off Yuri and held by himself so long it didn't smell like his husband anymore. He stopped eating and drinking. He got quieter and quieter until in just a short time he refused to speak entirely as he sank deeper into depression. They were forced to postpone a reconstructive surgery because instead of strengthening his condition was weakening quickly. They sent in the psychologist again but he refused to interact at all.

"You're going to have to let him see his husband. He can't continue like this. You're going to have to let him see Yuri, or this Makachan." The man glanced at his notes.

"Makachan is a dog. We can't bring a dog into the hospital."

"Victor has lost all control. He can't get out of bed on his own, can't go home, can't see this Makachan, can't see his husband, can't even see his own face. He exhibited more freedom while he was kidnapped than he has right now. You have to _give_ him _something_." The blunt truth hit them like a cannonball to the gut but they couldn't refute it. They went back to Victor's room defeated and silent. He remained staring dead eyed at the wall as he hugged the Maka-box. He was looking terribly thin again. The doctors were discussing reinserting the feeding tube that evening if he didn't begin eating again. Yakov found himself in the corner of the room watching his young ex-pupil wasting away. They were losing him. Even if they kept him alive they were going to lose him and he was useless to stop it. When Victor met Yuri they'd taken two independent and thriving young men, tore them to pieces and put back a dysfunctional dependent relationship. One couldn't survive without the other anymore. If you destroyed one you destroyed them both now and for the second time Yakov found himself hating Yuri Katsuki. Yurio on the other hand is thinking.

"Victor. Victor!" The harsh whisper jolted him from sleep.

"Whaa...no no!"

"Hey easy dumbass!" The room was dark except for moonlight filtering through the partly open blinds.

"Y-Yurio." He went to rub the sleep from his eyes but the blond stopped him. In these half awake moments and still unable to feel his face he would forget how badly the action could hurt him. It was also the only chance they could catch him actually talking; before the heartsick ache would set in and he'd drown in it they could get a few phrases from him.

"Listen up. You do it right and you can see Yuri. You can only watch at night when the staff thinks you're asleep. Don't tell anyone and you have to eat and talk again. Are you listening to me? What did I just say?"

"Don't tell, watch at night when they think I'm asleep, be obedient little boy. How can I see Yuri?" He sat up further, trembling from the effort, his body screaming for food but he had no appetite. The staff had tried to put a feeding tube in him again that night but he'd resisted until they gave up afraid to do more harm but vowed it wasn't over. He wouldn't give up though. They were still lying to him, telling him Yuri was alive but he wasn't. Yuri must have died and they were lying so he would cooperate and heal but he wasn't buying their lies anymore. He would not eat or accept a feeding tube. He would let himself waste away until he could meet with his Yuri once again. He figured it wouldn't take long. But Yurio was telling him he could see his husband. He could see him _now._ Was he wrong? Was there still hope? The screen of a cellphone flashed blindingly and he grunted as pain spiked across his eyes. He had the use of both now, as the swelling reduced, but they were immensely light sensitive and the left was incredibly blurry and almost useless. The doctors didn't say if it was permanent or not.

"Yuri." he doesn't realize he's murmured his name as the video feed flickers to life. He's in a room exactly like his own but the lights are on so the machines can be monitored. He's unconscious with the help of heavy drugs. He wears an oxygen mask and has tubes and wires sticking out of him but mostly he's coiled in bandages. They're everywhere, his face, arms, chest, anything with skin has bandages and what doesn't has stitches. He hardly looks human. He clutches the phone tighter, pulls the Maka-box to his chest and settles back onto the bed settling in to watch his husband. He can't look away. Now he believes them. Now he's convinced Yuri isn't dead and everything they told him is true. It's fuzzy, he was less lucid then but he remembers discussing Yuri's injuries. Left arm broken in two spots with fracturing to the elbow. Two cracked ribs and two broken. His right hip had been dislocated and there was stress fracturing through that side of the pelvis from repeated blows. The right knee was dislocated and the kneecap was shattered. Aggravated concussion from multiple concussive events. That one had taken him a while to understand that he'd accumulated concussions and each one was worse than the last. Externally he had twenty-five stitches for the deep cuts, mostly to his face and hands, but the doctors said internally from all the muscles and tendons torn so badly or even snapped having to be stitched together he had over two hundred stitches in him. He was glad Yuri was kept sedated. Gradually his breaths matched Yuri's and he melted into the bed. He wouldn't remember falling asleep or Yurio lightly taking the phone and shutting it off on the nightstand. He wouldn't feel him pull the blankets up to his shoulders or repositioning the Maka-box so it stayed safely tucked in his elbow. If anyone else had been there Yurio wouldn't have done it but they were alone and his Grandpa told him sometimes you just have to show kindness, even to annoying people.

Morning brought sweeping dramatic change. Victor's light-hearted childish nature was back so fast they could almost here the snap as it popped back into place. Victor had conscripted someone, whom they hadn't found yet, to get him a straw and little balls of paper and spent the day zinging Yurio in the back of the neck with spit balls when he wasn't looking. The family had a sense of whiplash, confused by the sudden improvement and no clue as to the cause. There was still a shadow that flickered at moments behind his eyes and he was wary around the doctors and strangers and no one could get near the Maka-box still but otherwise it was as if everything was fixed. Now there biggest struggle was keeping the Russian fed. The switch was flipped and the man was _hungry!_ He eats two eggs, three sausages and a little mixed fruitcup with juice box for breakfast then he demands he's still hungry and gets a jello cup and then a chocolate pudding cup. An hour later he's hungry again and wants coffee but the doctors tell him no and give him a pitcher of water and a sliced apple. He eats the apple, leaves the water and half an hour later they come back from a consult with the doctors and he's got a large peppermint mocha and a fresh donut and no one is admitting how he got them but the doctors fail to confiscate the forbidden snacks. The doctors actually had to ban him from eating for a few hours afraid he'd make himself sick but they did declare his condition had improved enough they scheduled the next reconstructive surgery for the next day. He had done little more than nodded at the decision. He couldn't bring himself to get emotionally connected with his half destroyed face. He knew the clinical terms for all the damage they'd told him but he didn't really know what was wrong with it. He hadn't seen it, couldn't feel it. It left him disassociated with the severe injuries.

After a while he declared he was tired and ready to spend some quiet time alone. The family had panicked that something was wrong hearing the request but after ten minutes of convincing they finally believed him and let him alone. He hadn't lied. He was feeling stifled being surrounded by people fluffing pillows, asking him if he had enough water, was he still hungry(he was) was he feeling any pain? The questions never seemed to end and it was constant noise filling his head and he needed it to all just stop. He breathed a sigh of relief, alone for the first time and took a few minutes to revel in the _quiet_. Once he felt he'd absorbed as much of the silence as he could take he pulled out the cell phone and powered it up.

He was looking forward to catching up on some of his social media. He didn't start with the most recent posts however. Instead he scrolled, and scrolled and scrolled, until he found the last post he remembered and worked his way back up from there. It didn't take him long to scroll through the outcry of his fans during the week Yuri was missing and neither of them were seen publicly or posting. They had simply dropped away and it was noticed. He felt his throat clog a little seeing the #SaveYuri campaign he and Yurio had launched. The media had exploded finally getting the devastating answer to what happened to the pair the last week and the fight to find his husband. Their efforts broke the media sites several times. Then they were gone again, but this time they had answers. There was a video of the last minute of his own kidnapping that had made it to the sites. He watched it six times and he still couldn't wrap his mind around it. In the end he failed to resolve his feelings on it and was forced to move to other posts. He tucked the phone away when a nurse came for his check up and to bring lunch(his fourth) and then he was idly eating and scrolling again. He choked up seeing the fans responses as the reports of their being rescued were announce and then nothing. His family, his friends, no one would comment on their conditions and the world went wild.

#Where are the Nikiforovs?

#Still Missing?

#The Legend is Dead?

#Their Rescue a Lie?

#Save our Legends!

Victor felt overwhelmed. He let the phone drop to the mattress and just laid back and stared at the ceiling for a long while. He felt disjointed and out of body, no, not out of body, like he had his body, and also his body a foot and a half to the left at the same time. He was unusually quiet when the family returned for dinner and that worried them. He did his best to reassure him and that he was just thinking, processing everything that had happened. He wasn't sure if they bought it but it was the truth. Around nine that night they forbid him from any food and remind him no water even after midnight because he has his surgery in the morning. It wasn't long after an incredibly large dinner that he demanded solitude again. He did nothing for the some time after they left. The ceiling has sixty eight tiles and an average of five hundred and nine freckles on each. Finally he figured out what he wanted to do. He pulled Maka-box into a familiar hug and took a semi-posed selfie. It took three tries to get one that wasn't blurred and seeing his face with a quarter of it hidden under bandages was strange, but he posted the picture.

 _The Legends live! It's a long road to recovery and we're held together by glue but on the mend and eager to go home. #Hanging in there #Victurri Lives #you know who you are bring more donuts and coffee_

He knows there's going to be a firestorm from the media, probably already started even, when he checks it again but for now he's satisfied. For some reason the post makes him feel like reality has clicked back into place. He's not stuck in limbo anymore and time is moving forward again. He settles to a more comfortable position and flips to the video feed of Yuri. It's been too long since he could check it last and he's feeling homesick. His love is still asleep and healing at a good pace but he's so broken and battered he knows it will be a long time before he sees his old Piglet again. He vows to himself to do everything he has to to heal quickly and get released so he can sit by Yuri's side and hold his hand again.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Victor stared stunned and speechless. He didn't know what he was looking at even though what he looked at was himself. It was the morning after his complete 180 in disposition and second surgery. After the operation went quite well the doctors said they had to take him off the nerve numbing drugs and allow his body to realize the injuries, process the physical trauma or he wouldn't heal properly. They were more tactful but the summary of their warning was it was going to hurt like hell. Another part of the healing process required them to remove the bandages now. The wounds were no longer open except for the stitched up section from his latest surgery and the staff were optomistically saying it might be the last. The bones were glued and pinned back together with a few sections and now they just had to be allowed to fuse themselves back together. The doctor cautioned him that they were _incredibly_ fragile and he had to avoid picking things up, even things as light as a glass of water or plate of food, and things that created force like coughing, sneezing, leaning over, and vomiting or the bones might pull apart. He was deemed capable of getting himself up and to the bathroom and back on his own and maybe short supervised walks down the hall. At this point they couldn't stop him. Once they'd peeled off the bandages, thankfully before the numbing agents wore off, he'd demanded to be allowed to see himself in the bathroom mirror.

"Is this...me?" He reaches up to touch the unrecognizable parts of his face but Mr. Katsuki catches his wrist before he can make contact.

"Don't touch."

"This is me?" He couldn't believe it. Half his face was black and purple. He was swollen and contorted like a gargoyle's scowl and other parts seemed caved in under the weight of his own flesh. The scars were stitched like he were the Frankenstein monster, big and ugly but they would be mostly hidden in natural creases of his face or his hair once it grew back. The surgeon had done a good job of hiding them. Despite the swelling he could already start to see where there would be bumps or divets in his facial structure that hadn't been before. The left eye was still stained with bright red from broken blood vessels making it look demonic and diseased. He didn't mean for his lip to tremble or tears to fall but they did. "This _can't_ be _me._ " He hiccuped hugging his waist feeling something intangible tearing through his chest.

"Shh shh, it's okay my boy, it's okay. Your face won't _always_ look like this. It's just the swelling and bruising from all the surgeries. The doctors say without complications you should look about the same as before, perhaps with a few more bar fights under your belt is all." Mr. Katsuki tried to jest to brighten his spirits. The tears came faster along with his sharp shallow gasps.

"I can't look like this! I can't see Yuri looking like this! I'll terrify him! I look like a monster!" He was taken by surprise when his father in-law scooped him into a tight hug, stroking the back of his head gently.

"Now now, it's going to be okay my boy. You don't look like a monster and Yuri will be fine. It's still a few more days before they take him off sedation they said and I'm sure the swelling will be less and the bruises will fade. Shhh Shhh, c'mon don't cry, everything's okay." It takes him a few minutes before he can slow the tears and breathe normally as he regains composure. His father in-law doesn't say anything as he grabs some tissues and with just the weight of the paper blots his damaged face dry. It hurts. The pain is awake now and damn it hurts.

"Y-you sure I w-won't scare him?"

"Well you know how it is when you're half-sedated and coming out of it, everything scared you too, but once he's awake." A hurt sob escaped Victor again. He didn't want Yuri afraid of him.

"No, I don't want him to see me! I don't want him to think I'm hideous! I know I am but I don't want _him_ to see me like this!"

"Hey hey, don't worry so much. Do you remember back when you first met Yuri?"

"Yes."

"You remember how at that time he was very overweight, coming out of a depression and off the worst season of his career, and his career hadn't been very good already. He was at his worst really but did you care?"

"No...He was enchanting and inspiring and..."

"And that's all that will matter to him. Even thin and battered and bruised he will only care about _you_." Victor nodded sniffling and went to scrub the tears from his face habitually but his wrist was pushed away again. He was beginning to realize how many little touches to his face he made in a day and how hard it would be remembering not to for the next month. "There, better now?"

"Yes." He sniffed again.

"Good, let's get you cleaned up a bit then go back out. I think I heard something about Momma smuggling pork cutlet bowls in today. Victor waited obediantly while Mr. Katsuki ran the water and then wroung out the cold wash cloth and pressed it against his neck. After a moment he re-cooled the cloth and dobbed the parts of his face that could be touched. "Now that feels better I'm sure. C'mon."

There was indeed pork cutlet for lunch. For some reason that day it warmed him through in ways more than physically. Mama Katsuki had made this just for him and snuck it past the staff just for him. The doctors had a strange insistance on him eating only hospital food but now that his stomach was not sensitive and his appetite robust he found himself needing heartier, home cooked, meals to fill him. They talked about him actually visiting Yuri finally and though the doctor's were hesitant they agreed to arrange an opportunity that evening. They talked about Victor having to go for longer walks through the halls of the hospital and maybe even in the fresh air and they talked about him possibly going home in a few days. He ached to go home. To sleep in his own bed, the one he shared with Yuri, and to have Maka's head in his lap as he sipped coffee in the evening and watched a movie felt like a cool drink to his parched soul.

But he was worried. He wore out so quickly. The pain in his face was a constant burning ache and sometimes it spiked so bad he couldn't breathe. And then there was the fact that the media had found him. While they hadn't found exactly which room was his in the hospital thanks to his family's efforts to buffer them he always could hear them buzzing and scouring the halls to find him. He even heard shutter clicks randomly when they would snap instinctively thinking they saw him and wanting the photo so bad they didn't confirm before taking it. They were careful to time the short walks he took for when they were in other parts of the hospital. He tried to placate the fans by posting on his media and even providing photos but they were obviously constructed with care to hide his injuries entirely and the world was dissatisfied. He didn't normally hide from his fans or the media but the anxiety of all those people surrounding him, pressing in on all sides, yelling and shouting, snapping photos, and reaching out to touch him like vultures picking away at him was all too much. He clenched with fear at the thought of being around so many strangers. Of so many strangers getting close to Yuri even. What if one of them was another Andre? Or if Logan decided to come back and finish him off? The police said he wouldn't, there was nothing to gain, but Victor couldn't shake the fear. So he continued to hide from them and wait until his courage was back.

The visit to see Yuri did not go like he expected. It had taken a good deal more preperation than he ever expected. They had to make sure Yuri was settled after getting some fresh scans and they had to make sure the hallways and elevator were empty of reporters and just in case they'd fitted him with an oversize hoodie and practices pulling it around so it shadowed his battered face from onlookers without completely blinding him. The silence of the room had been unnatural and oppressive. They could hear the hiss of an oxygen mask and some clicks, whirs and beeps of vitals monitors and yet it was still as if the room were in a complete hush. He approaches the bed and automatically reaches out to brush the greasy stringy hair from his face but stops suddenly afraid to touch him. He's thin, too thin, and his face is gaunt and pale with dark bruising that looks garrish and harsh in this lighting. His arm is in a cast now and there's stitches all over his body. They'll come out soon but he's healing unusually slowly. the accumulation of dehydration, starvation and being forced to continue to skate and exert himself so rigorously for so long has drained his body too far. They have to claw and fight for every tiny repair his body achieves. They're pumping food and supplements into him around the clock to restore some strength to his body but every way they look at it it's going to take a while. Victor's hand hovers fearfully over his forehead. He looks like the lightest touch would shatter him.

"It's okay, you can touch him." He's still reluctant but he can't resist and he presses his hand to his forehead and brushes the hair back and then he can't stop and the motion keeps repeating. He doesn't even realize he's holding his limp hand now but he entwines their fingers, his thumb rubbing the back of his hand lightly. His facade of calm cracks and tears stream down his face. How did they come to this? He notices his eyes are darting frenetically beneath the lids, especially so with his touch or when he fails to hold back an audible sob.

"Is...is he awake?" He sniffles and tries to calm himself. Crying twice in one day is not something that pleases him. He has to get better control of himself.

"Not yet, but they're easing him off the sedatives so they say he might wake up tomorrow." _Tomorrow. I can see his eyes, hear his voice...tomorrow_. His legs started to feel wobbly beneath him and his body felt heavy. He was pushing past the limits of how long he could handle being out of bed and it didn't go unnoticed. "We should go sweet heart. You don't want to exhaust yourself." He nodded but the thought of letting go of Yuri's hand was like a bucket of ice in his stomach. He never wanted to leave. "Victor?" He sighed. He had no choice. Despite the warnings he leaned in and laid a slow chaste kiss to Yuri's forehead. Lava and lighting shot through the bones and flesh of his face, pained shivers crawling up and down his spine. He was pale and in a cold sweat when he stood again.

Stepping into the hall is like an explosion of chaos. Cameras flash like a lightning storm. People shout at him from a bustling crowd yield as many phones as dedicated cameras. Questions and demands barked at him from every direction, drowning him in sound. He cries out and grips the hoodie very close to his face, bumping it a few times, and jerks away from the crowd until he bumps into the wall. Pain rips through his face from the concussive force of the light impact. Reporters and bloggers and media gurus press in on him, rubbing, touching, pulling and pushing for his attention. He pleads for them to stop it, no comment, please just leave him alone, but they're crushing him blindly in their demand for a story. He doesn't see who it is that comes to his rescue. The push and kick back the group forcing a bubble to be made and Victor is able to run, gasping and trembling with panic. They hunt him all the way to his room door which he slams shut and locks. They beat on his door, yelling questions through it. He tries to cover his ears and hide until the blankets, trembling, but he can still hear them. It's like their screaming in his ear and scraping a carrot peeler across his nerves. Desperate he retreats into the bathroom turning on the shower and the faucet then the music from his cell phone as loud as it can go. He sinks to the floor, ears still covered, rocking back and forth, over stimulated and his senses raw but at least now, for these few minutes, he can't hear the mob of strangers rioting outside his door.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: I'm sorry...for the end of this chapter I'm sorry and I know I'm a horrible human being but the story refused to be kind. We're almost through it though! Just two more chapters after this(and then I can post my oneshot I wrote!) Hang in there!**

Chapter 13

Yuri waking was far different from Victor's experience. He wasn't distressed or confused. He didn't have the strength. He would blink at them a few times sluggishly through eyes so glassy they doubted he could see through them and then he would drift to sleep again. Each time he woke it was for a little longer but the progression was immensely slow. The doctors would try to coax him to speak but he'd stare at them dumbly, mind too foggy to process the request. The staff just sighed and admitted they needed to give him more time. Mama Katsuki stayed with him, holding his hand and petting his hair as she felt like it giving him time to sleep but guiding him to wake when he seemed to rouse partially. Mr. Katsuki bounced between the rooms to ensure Victor was never alone for too long and that the media was still being held at bay. They had been forced to request a security guard stay regularly visible in the hallway to chase the vultures away or they would spend hours beating on the door and calling questions through it. He hadn't felt rage like he had finding Victor cowering in the bathroom with music blaring and all the water running, hands cupped over his ears just to drown out their noise. Victor tried a few pleading posts on his social media to be left in peace and promising when they had something to tell they would say it but the begging tone of the messages didn't work. His fans were going through a veritable drought of their Victor Nikiforov and they were rioting.

"Hey honey, you're awake. How are you feeling?" Yuri stared up at his mother waiting for the words to make sense. He licked his lips but his tongue felt too fat and like sanpaper. "Here let me get you a sip of water." She pressed a straw between his lips and he automatically began to sip but he could only manage about three before he was worn out. The cool liquid was heaven sliding down his burning throat.

"Mama?" His voice was so weak and hoarse he didn't even recognize it was his own.

"I'm here sweety. How do you feel?" He didn't understand. His last memory was being in that room, on that cot with Andre...He scrunched his eyes shut and sucked in a few shuddering breaths. He didn't want to think about it. "Sweety? Are you alright? Are you in pain?" He shook his head. He _was_ in pain, everywhere, it seemed to flow through him like a living entity spreading aches and sharp stabbing sensations but there was a dullness and disconnect to the feelings.

"Doesn't...make sense..." She stroked his cheek with the back of her soft hand and he couldn't help but lean into the touch.

"What doesn't make sense sweety?" He wanted to sit up but she held him down and the pain finished him off.

"Real?"

"Of course we're real. You're safe now." He sank a little beneath the waves of exhaustion content to sleep again until the hazy memory of Victor, blurry and far away, his expression worried and terrified hovered above his own.

 _"What did you do to him?!"_

"Victor!" He tried to jump up again, cracking a sob and falling back, "Where's-Victor?"

"Shh, he's here honey. Do you want me to get him." He nodded furiously.

"Victor...Need Victor." A flash of Victor brawling with someone on a floor.

 _"Don't you dare touch him! Yuri! Yuri!"_ He didn't want these memories, didn't even know if they had actually happened, but they frightened him.

"Ok I'll get him, don't you worry. His room is on the first floor so it'll be a few minutes." His mother kissed his forehead and hustled from the room.

The silence was vacuous. He instantly regretted her leaving. The walls were curling in on him, threatening to crush him. There was a bathroom and closet door and both were open a bit and dark inside. He could swear something, Andre or his goons, was in the shadows waiting for him to look away and then jump out and tear him to pieces. Memories shot through his head like bolts of electricity. He didn't want them, he didn't want to recall a single moment but it wouldn't stop coming. Every slip, every fall, hitting the rink wall, flipping over it and being thrown back again. The bruises and cuts he could still feel the pain from them like fire through his veins. He tries to sit up again feeling defenseless on his back but something is grating in his hips and it nearly makes him pass out. How did he get here? What happened to Andre and his lackeys? Where was Victor? What if Andre came back? His eyes screwed shut. He couldn't get enough air. He gasped and panted and choked but he couldn't get enough _air._

"Yuri! Yuri!" Hands, familiar and safe, cupped his face. "I'm here Yuri, everything's okay just breathe slowly. I'm here."

"I don't know what happened. He was fine just a moment ago." Victor ignored Hiroko riveted by his husband, those beautiful brown eyes staring at him now. He started to breathe with Victor except for the sporadic hiccup.

"There we go, that's it. You're okay now." He brushed his thumb back and forth on his cheek.

"V-Victor, what if...if he comes back?"

"He won't come back. They caught him. He's locked up."

"S-sure?"

"Yes, he's locked up and never coming back." Yuri felt a chunk of fear break away and his chest get lighter. He blinked a few times and with his unbroken arm rubbed the bleariness from his eyes. It was the first time he saw Victor clearly in so very long but he frowned.

"You're hurt?" He tried to reach up to touch his face but Victor flinched sharply, shaking the bed, and they both suffered jolts of pain. In his haste to get to Yuri, and then finding him in a panic, he hadn't noticed the hood had fallen and the damage wasn't hidden. It took them a moment to recover from the jarring then he scrambled to hide his face under the hood.

"It's nothing. I'm fine. I should go. I don't want to scare you with my face." He slipped off the bed where he'd been half-sitting on the edge but felt Yuri's catch his hand in a fragile grasp.

"Don't go...please don't go..." Victor gulped. One handed he did his best to pull the hood tighter around his injuries and settled into a chair beside the bed. Yuri was staring at him, eyes sliding towards his hidden injuries at times, but his energy was spent. Victor found himself withering too and someone, he didn't know who, gave him a pillow. In minutes they both slept soundly, Yuri still holding tight to Victor's hand. The day passed quietly in this manner. Once he was convinced Victor wouldn't leave Yuri gave him back his hand, though he only wanted it to adjust his seat or eat and then he was demanding Yuri's back. Yuri spent most of his time asleep and when he wasn't he was clenching Victor's hand white knuckled struggling to breathe through the pain. Victor found himself helpless finally understanding just how long it would be before Yuri was healed again. Holding his hand just wasn't enough.

"But can't I stay? I don't mind sleeping in the chair." Victor whined that evening. The doctor's had tolerated him staying, despite their protests, during the day but now it was time for lights out and they were putting their foot down.

"No. You're still a patient too and you could accidentally harm your face sleeping between a bed and a chair. What if you feel out of it during the night?"

"I won't! Promise!" It didn't work.

"Yuri needs to be left alone to sleep properly. And so do you. Do you want to be the one to slow down his recovery because you wanted a sleep over?" The blow was low.

"No." He muttered. "But he's been afraid to be alone. What if he _can't_ sleep?"

"We're going to give him something to help him sleep through the night and Mrs. Katsuki is going to stay until he _is_ asleep. Now go, no arguments." He sighed. The war was lost. He stood and, ignoring the fire it igniting through his face, leaned over Yuri brushing his fingers through his hair.

"Hey sweety, I have to go for the night. The doctors won't let me stay anymore but I'll be back first thing in the morning okay?" Yuri smiled weakly. He'd been too exhausted between his frail condition and the constant chipping away of pain to participate in the discussion. By the looks he almost wouldn't need anything to help him sleep but Victor was glad he'd get something. Maybe he wouldn't dream.

"Come dear, let him sleep. The angry tiger friend of yours, what's his name, Yurio, he's waiting. He says his grandfather made you pirozhki." Victors stomach betrayed him with a loud growl.

"I guess I am hungry." They turned the corner and slammed by a sea of people.

"Victor tell us what it's like to be kidnapped!"

"Victor what kind of injuries did your captors inflict on you?"

"Victor why the sudden preference for hoodies?"

"Victor there's a rumor that you're hiding injuries with the hoodie, can you confirm!"

"Victor is it true your captors permanently deformed your face, is it true?!"

"Victor what can you tell us about Yuri Katsuki's condition?"

"Victor do you still plan to compete next season!"

"Victor will Katsuki be competing next season!"

"Victor will you and Katsuki remain a couple if your face _is_ deformed permanently?"

"Victor when will you and Katsuki be released from the hospital?"

They pressed in on him from all sides, waving and shouting. Their camera lights blinding him. He slapped his hands over his ears, backing away from them panicked but there was a wall at his back. Mama Katsuki suddenly had a broom and was smacking them mercilessly creating a small bubble but they didn't stop. Victor saw a small tract of gap and bolted through it. Hiroko held some of the crowd at bay with her broom but most chased after Victor shouting their questions irreverent to his obvious panic. He flew down stairwells and ducked corners managing to lose the overweight, middle aged crew but they were few. His legs were already feeling shaking and his lungs were starting to burn. He was far from his normal stamina after the last few weeks. He didn't see Yurio as he zoomed past frantically searching for a place to hide until he could sneak back to his room.

"What the hell?" The Russian kitten charged after them. Victor spotted a waiting area for a department that was clearly closed with all the lights off and the information desk abandon. He rushed ahead swerving into it hoping he was far enough ahead of the reporters they didn't see. If he could lay low for just a minute they would rush past him and he'd be safe to sneak to his room. If nothing else making they would bottleneck and he'd lose a few more of them. He didn't. They were so much closer than he realized and the minute he plunged into the room they surrounded him like a mob.

"Victor what kind of injuries did your captors inflict on you?"

"Victor why the sudden preference for hoodies?"

"Victor there's a rumor that you're hiding injuries with the hoodie, can you confirm!"

"Victor is it true your captors permanently deformed your face, is it true?!"

"Victor what can you tell us about Yuri Katsuki's condition?"

"Victor do you still plan to compete next season!"

"Victor will Katsuki be competing next season!"

"Victor will you and Katsuki remain a couple if your face _is_ deformed permanently?"

"BACK OFF SHITHEADS!"

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" Victor shoved through the edge of them desperately trying to run again.

"Wait Victor you can't leave until you answer our questions!" The nearest reporter demanded throwing out an arm and gripping Victor by the elbow trying to pull him back.

"STOP!" Yurio saw it coming. Victor wasn't expecting to be jerked back. His ankle rolled and twisted slightly. His balance was thrown as he pivoted, scrambling to save himself, but it was too late. He toppled, bouncing the right side of his face off the information desk edge brutally and crumpled to the floor. The whole room stopped breathless. Victor curled fetal position rocking back and forth, toes curled, gripping his head, far far from his face, white knuckled and screaming.

 _Click...click...clickclickclickclick_.

It was a lightning storm of shutter flashes documenting Victor's agony they created. Yurio snapped.

"You want a story! I'll give you a freakin story!" Yurio charged the reporter that took down Victor, startling everyone as he jerked the man up, gripping him like a sack of potatoes under his arm. His legs flailed in the air, hands planted against the floor to keep his face from smashing against it. There's no chance to react before Yurio tears his pants down to his knees, whips up a tabletop name placard, Betsy Piffle, and whaps it against his bare ass repeatedly. There's nothing sexy or cute about the spanking. Every blow _hurts_ and raises deep welts, some breaking and bleeding and some just bruising. His co-workers are lapping it up with videos and photographs of every blow, every cut and welt. The man is sobbing now but Yurio is relentless. He doesn't feel a drop of remorse. He may find Victor annoying and sappy and prefers he keeps company away from him, but he doesn't deserve to be in pain like _this_. He dropped the man like a hot rock. "If I see ANY of you in this hospital near him again I'll do worse to you!" He threw the placard and they scattered like flies.

"NNNgggg...god..." the moan drew him from his rage to Victor. He was panting erratically, feet pushing and sliding against the floor, writhing, fists buried in his hair.

"Victor. Let me see." He strained to pull his arms away from his face but the man was locked down like a clam. "You can't touch let me see it." He pried the wrists away with resistance. His heart fibrillated for a second. Blood smeared his face, his cheekbone collapse like a canyon across his face but bones stuck out through the skin near his eyes and it was all starting to turn black already.

"Nnng...it hurts...it hurts..."

"Okay...um...um...we need to get you upstairs. You can stand?"

"Make it stop...please make it stop..." Yurio scowled. Victor wasn't lucid enough through the pain. He had to do this himself. Getting him to his feet was hell. He was instinctively curling in on himself as if it would make the pain go away. They ended up with him doubled over, Yurio with an arm around his waist and another at the front of his shoulder to keep him on his feet. Thankfully when prompted he would walking, stumbling, letting Yurio lead him back up the stairs. He had to half spoon-half push Victor to get him moving up the stairs towards help and trying very hard to avoid looking at the blood dripping on the steps.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Here we go folks! I am so sad. There's only one more chapter after this!**

Chapter 14

Yuri lay in bed, beads of cold sweat rolling down his neck, gripping the sheet white knuckled with his undamaged arm and focusing very hard on keeping every other part of his body still. Damn he hurt. He'd been coherently awake for several days now, he didn't know how many really, and the doctors were telling him he had to start doing things like sitting up again. He phased out for most of the explanation but they said his hip bones while not broken all the way through had extensive fractures like spiderwebs across the surface of the bone. If he did the wrong thing they could break through completely but with extreme caution he could do more than lie on his back and that was for the best. They were worried if he remained prone much longer it would create new problems. He was seriously contemplating just accepting the new problems and enjoying the bliss of being flat on his back. Talk of beginning physical therapy in the next week struck terror into him. It would kill him for sure if just sitting woke _this much_ pain. He couldn't imagine what therapy would do to him.

"Try to breathe through it honey." His mother was hovering over him worried about his sharp shallow breaths. He'd been told time and again to do slow deep inhales but he just couldn't do it.

"Please...can't we stop...please?" He didn't mean to beg. He really didn't, but he just couldn't take this anymore.

"I'm sorry, the doctor said you need to be sitting up longer. Why don't I get you something to keep your mind off it hmm? What sounds good? A book? Movie? That angry friend of yours Yurio? I think I heard he doesn't have skate practice today."

"Can't...I just can't..." He bit his lip. He wasn't going to cry. He wasn't going to look weak again.

"Okay honey, it's okay." It wasn't. It wasn't okay. None of this was okay. He kept his eyes screwed shut as the paged nurse arrived.

"Is everything okay in here?"

"Can't you give him something for the pain?" He hated hearing his mother pleading like that, like him. Paper and a clipboard clinked and rustled.

"I'm sorry. It's too soon for him to get another dose. He's already at the limit." Yuri's heart sank. This didn't feel like what the max amount of pain meds should feel like. They were alone again.

"Just hang on dear. It'll be over soon."

"Wh-where's Victor? Is he coming soon?"

"No honey. Victor can't come today." She sighed heavily and began petting his hair, damp with sweat. The action helped and he leaned into her touch.

"Why nooot? Is he mad...at me?" He whined sucking a sharp breath. He wished he could just pass out.

"No, no he's not mad. Do you remember? How I said he had a bad fall a few days ago and he hurt his face again?" He did, sort of, remember a mention but his head was hazy.

"He...hurt bad?"

"Well it's not good, but he'll be okay, don't you worry. He just needs a few more days before he can visit." If he'd been looking anywhere but the ceiling he would have seen the half truth and the lie. He was hurt and badly. It had taken six hours for the surgeon to find and remove all the little pieces of bone and get the remaining bones somewhat set. He would recover but they were warned having to reset all the bones after barely being healed, Victor wouldn't be as lucky. There was going to be a scar and there was going to be changes to the shape. There just wasn't enough bone left to save for him to look unchanged this time. While he was clear to go on walks like before Victor refused. The incident had broken more than just his bones. He didn't talk, didn't go on daily walks like the doctors ordered. He ate and he slept and he remained silent. Suggestions of him coming to see Yuri sent him quivering beneath the blankets.

"M-miss him..."

"Alrighty Yuri, time to lay you back down. We'll give you a few minutes to rest then we need to get x-rays of the hip and knee again and see how they're coming along." Yuri didn't answer preferring to finally be able to drift.

Yurio stood scowling. He wasn't sure how he'd been roped into babysitting Nikiforov. Once they were deemed not at risk of dying he'd slipped back into almost his ordinary daily routine. It had been refreshing to get back to normalcy but now, on his one day off from skating, he found himself landed with Victor. There was no disguising his overt pout. Victor was lying on his side, broken half of his face away from the mattress, staring at the wall in glum silence. He didn't understand why he had to be here to watch him sulk in bed.

"Hey, why don't you just go see the piggy and stop making me sit with you." He grumbled. Victor sighed heavily and didn't answer. Yuri cursed under his breath and grabbed a chair kicking his feet up onto the bed. "Feh, just see the stupid piggy."

"Can't, not like this." The mumbled excuse surprised Yurio.

"Why not, better than making me stay here. I should be shopping. The tiger prints are on sale!"

"Can't let him see me, not with my face like this. He'll be repulsed."

"Feh! What a crybaby! The piglet doesn't care!"

"No, he doesn't need me there. I'll just make it harder for him having to see me looking so ugly now." Yurio leered spotting the cell phone cradled in his hands with the video feed of Yuri's room. He'd forgotten about the spy camera.

"You are a selfish baby! Yuri doesn't care bout your face he's asking for you! You're just enjoying self pity!" He spat snatching the phone eliciting a surprised yelp from Victor. "You visit him, or you don't see him at all! You're just a _coward._ " Yurio stomped out taking Victor's last tether to Yuri with him. He lay back feeling empty and incredibly lonely now that he couldn't watch Yuri. The silence was deafening. _Am I really a coward?_ He heaved himself out of the bed and shuffled to stare at himself in the mirror.

"Will Yuri really not care? I look like a gargoyle." He talked to his image. He hadn't realized how lucky he'd been with the first surgeries. Now he had a big split that had been stitched together, his face was still badly swollen in some places but he could see the changes already. There was an odd droop to his eye and his cheekbone seemed shallower, smaller, and lopsided making his face seem misaligned to its other half. "How could Yuri ever be okay with this?" He ran his fingers across the newly formed cheekbone. It sent daggers of pain through his face but he didn't care. He tugged at the skin a little trying to see if it could be pulled into shape like before the attack. He let it drop a small tremor of agony coursing through his spine. It was no good. He couldn't make himself look like he did before.

He crawled back into the bed and curled in on himself. Yurio was wrong. He couldn't go to Yuri looking like this, couldn't bear to see the disappointment in how he looked now. He tried to sleep but he couldn't get comfortable. He shifted and tossed between positions but nothing eased the malaise. He ended up on his back staring at the door again. He could do this. He didn't need to go see Yuri. _Liar._ Yuri was better off if he left him alone. He didn't need to be upset looking at his battered face. _Liar Liar!_ The quiet of the room felt like it was judging him with every tick of the clock. He didn't need to worry about Yuri. His family was with him and was only asking for him because Yuri felt obligated. _Do you really believe that_? He huffed at the voice in his head. He hated it. Hated how it was so brutally honest, but mostly he hated how it sounded exactly like Yuri.

"You're fine damnit! You don't _need_ to go see Yuri! Yuri is fine without you! He's only asking for me because everyone expects him too!" The delusion hung heavy in the air. It was almost too thick to even breathe now. The clock ticked slowly, accusingly, driving him mad.

 _You need him._

"Damnit!" Victor threw back the blankets and climbed out of bed. He threw his hoodie on, checking in the mirror to make sure his injuries were totally hidden then, after checking the hall was empty, sneaking his way towards Yuri's room. He berated himself for being useless and weak but he couldn't stop himself now that he was headed to Yuri. He didn't have the strength to turn back again, and he was afraid the longer he spent in the hall the press might corner him again. He could still see the counter edge whipping towards him seconds before he hit it. He wished he could forget that feeling. He paused at the door. He didn't want to do this. He inhaled slowly and held it a moment then released it sharply. Better to just get it done. Putting off seeing Yuri's look of disappointment and revulsion would only make it harder. He was startled to find Yuri alone in the room. No one had told him but in a fit of pain and anger Yuri had snapped that if they weren't Victor he didn't want to see them and they'd been ban ever since. He regretted it but he hadn't succumbed and asked them back yet.

"Victor? You-you're actually here?" The raw emotion in his voice stunned Victor. He sounded...hopeless.

"Hi Yuri." Victor felt pathetic and awkward. Yuri's bed was propped so he could be partially sitting up. He was in a cold sweat and his face was pale with a pinched pained look about it. He'd seen the look before when he was on the edge of overworking himself at skate practice but it was never anywhere near this. _He must be in agony._ Guilt chewed at his stomach as he slipped Yuri's hand into his. It was trembling lightly.

"They said you'd been hurt again but that you were okay but when you never came back I was worried. I thought maybe they'd lied to me." _Oh crap he's on the verge of crying. This is my fault he's upset like this!_

"No I'm fine really. No need to worry everything's fine. It's not as bad as they made it seem. I'm perfectly fine." Yuri frowned. He was too insistent he was fine when he so clearly wasn't okay. He had noticed Victor not meeting his eye contact and how he was holding hands with him but standing too far back and had half his face hidden behind the hood of a jacket Yuri had never seen before. Victor never wore hoodies. It was like he was afraid to be here.

"Please don't lie to me Victor." He bit his lip hearing Yuri's plea, struggling to choke back the lump in his throat.

"I'm fine. Nothing for you to worry about." Yuri tugged his hand, drawing him closer and Victor came along a little too submissively for Yuri's liking.

"Than why are you hiding from me?" He reached up grabbing the edge of the hood but Victor flinched snatching his wrist holding it still.

"Please...don't."

"It's going to be okay Victor." He was surprised when Victor didn't resist again as he pulled the hood back. Victor's low gaze plummeted to the floor, terrified to see his reaction. Yuri understoond just how hard the hit had been. How much it hurt. Victor's neck and ears had gone red with shame as he refused to look at him, tears rolling down his cheeks. _He's shaking._ Yuri cupped his cheek then slid it back to the nape of his neck and drew him closer. He turned his face to him but Victor still wouldn't meet his eye. "Look at me Victor." He wouldn't. " _Look_ at me Victor." The force of his tone was impossible to resist. Yuri gasped softly at the expression in his eyes. _Why is he terrified of me?_

"Yuri..." He couldn't find words, didn't know what he could say to redeem himself for his ruined image. He wasn't given another chance. Yuri pulled him into a kiss, weak, and chaste, but it was everything he had to give. Victor's was taken back by the move, his response mechanical and reflexive but it didn't matter. Yuri pulled him back after a moment and locked eyes with him so intensely Victor shriveled beneath it, unable to look away.

" _Nothing has changed._ "

"Yuri..."

" _Nothing_ has changed Victor." The effect was sweeping. He devovled into trembling sobs, swooning to half lay on the bed, half stand, propped against Yuri's shoulder feeling Yuri's arm wrap around him and stroke through his hair. "Shhhh, shhhh, it's okay Victor. Everything's going to be okay."

"P-promise?" He hiccuped.

"Promise. We're going to be okay Victor. Nothing has changed. You and me, we'll never change."


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: I'm so sad this is over! I hope you all really enjoyed it! I've got an Otabek x Yuri(ship neutral so you can read it however you want) oneshot I'll post in a few days!**

Chapter 15

Coming home felt like being able to breathe again for the first time. They had expected to find the house musty and bare of food but someone had been coming in and keeping it airy and fresh and left a week's worth cooked meals in their fridge. They were even portioned onto plates already. All they had to do was reheat. The only thing it was missing was their Maccachin. It had been deemed best if they at least got settled in, especially Yuri, and Victor took the poodle for a long long walk before bringing him home or he'd send them right back to the hospital with his clobbering love.

"Ahh so good to be home!" Victor stretched, arms out wide and up, rising to his tippy-toes with an over-dramatic groan then kicked his shoes away watching them fly across the room followed by his socks. He'd missed walking barefoot across the carpets, or at all. Yuri was decidedly less flambouyant. He clicked in and just stared across his home leaning heavily on the crutches. He hated using them and that he would have to use them for the next few months but it was better than a wheelchair he supposed. "Yuri, what's wrong?" Victor fretted seeing the tears falling.

"Nothing, it's nothing. I just...I didn't think I'd _come_ home for so long. While I was with Andre there never seemed to be a way to escape. I thought I'd be his prisoner forever and at the hospital time always seemed stretched and looped and I felt I was never going to be allowed to come _home."_

"Oh Yuri, we're both home now." Victor pressed his forehead to Yuri's, cradling the nape of his neck then brushed the tears away with the back of his hand.

"I'm okay, it's okay. It feels kinda nice to cry over something happy ya know?"

"I do." He pulled him into a lazy, comfortable kiss, remembering how much he'd missed this feeling. The silkiness inside his mouth, the slight chappiness of his lips making them rough and soft at the same time. The way Yuri would sigh with content. He was sad to break it off but he couldn't risk arousing him. Yuri couldn't do more physically. "Now, where should we get you settled, couch, recliner, or bed?" Yuri sighed. He may be home but he was still essentially bedridden on doctor's orders. He could get himself up to use the restroom and that was all he was allowed. Not putting even a toe's weight on his right leg had been brutally emphasised.

"I think recliner. I'm tired of beds and the couch will be harder to get off." He hobbled over and let Victor fuss over getting him settled into the recliner and pushing the ottoman to prop his feet.

"There, comfy?" Victor beamed proudly at the caccoon of pillows built around Yuri and the four blankets piled across him so he wouldn't be cold.

"Perfect, I could use some lunch though, and maybe a movie?"

"Coming right up!" Victor sang and skipped to the kitchen.

"Stupid overbearing, fluff headed mother hen." Yuri grumbled as soon as he was out of earshot and threw half the pillows to the couch along with two of the blankets and nestled into the remaining finally comfortable. He was just starting to get relaxed and sleepy except for the growling of his stomach when Victor returned. He set up a dinner tray with hot food, a glass of water, his next dose of medications. He retrieved five of the thrown pillows and stuffed them back into place and fluffed the others then spread the two blankets back over him.

"There, doesn't this look nice! I can't wait to get a plate too! Now, what movie would you like?"

"I don't really care. I'm probably going to sleep through it after lunch anyways, you pick."

"Well alright then." Victor danced away again a bit too chipper for Yuri's liking as he chucked four of the pillows and the two blankets again. Victor returned and cued the movie then stuffed the pillows back around Yuri along with the blankets.

"Shouldn't you be going to get Maccachin?" Yuri figured the dog was his only hope of distracting Victor.

"Ah! I do!" Yuri sighed in relief listening to Victor flit about to find the car keys and his shoes from where he'd tossed them in celebration. Yuri sunk a little into his pillow pile turning his attention to the food and the movie until he noticed Victor was standing, staring at the door.

"Vitya? Are you okay?"

"Maybe I shouldn't go."

"What?"

"Maybe I shouldn't go. Last time I left you here alone you were kidnapped by Andre. Yurio could just bring Maccachin. He'd do it if I promised free food." Yuri set down the plate with a sigh. He'd been worried Victor might do this.

"Vitya, we talked about this."

"I know." Victor turned from the door to him startling Yuri seeing him on the brink of tears.

"C'mere Vitya." He held out a hand beckoning his lover to come and he did, holding tight to his hand. They pressed foreheads gently while Yuri petted his jawline with his thumb, hand cupped around the back of his neck.

"I'm sorry Yuri, I just can't go. I can't leave you alone again." Tears started to fall.

"Shhh, I know, but you have to go. We talked about this. Do you remember what we said?"

"That we weren't going to be afraid to live normally. That we wouldn't ever change."

"That's right. We're not living in fear and we're not going to let what Andre did change us."

"But Yuri..."

"No, you have to go Victor. Pick up Maccachin, take him for a long walk and then bring him home. I'll be here waiting. I promise." He kissed his forehead then pushed him away. His husband seemed a little hurt but it was for the best. He couldn't save Victor from this except to push him into it and make him face it. It took him another minute and several deep breaths but finally he left.

At first he was okay but then the silence deepened. It was almost as quiet at the night he'd been taken except for the odd sound of a slamming car door, joggers going by laughing loudly, the sounds of daily life muffled by the walls of the house. His chest got tight as his mind replayed that night. He swallowed back a lump but it crawled back into place. _You can do this. You're making Victor do it so you have to do it too._ He clicked the volume back on the movie, which he'd muted to talk with Victor, but it seemed garishly loud like it was screeching at him. He didn't care. He even turned it louder to beat back the quiet. He took some deep shuddering breaths. His mind was scattered and frenetic. He repeatedly scanned the room but he was alone. There was nothing in the shadows. _You're okay. You're okay._ He stared at the cell phone Victor had left right next to him, demanding he call no matter how small the need but he didn't want to call. He wanted to do this on his own. He forced himself to focus. Slow inhale through the nose, hold it for a count of three, exhale through the mouth until there was a bit of air left. Slowly he felt the pressure in his chest release, although his face was all tingly, and he could turn down the volume on the movie and actually relax watching it. It felt like hardly any time had passed when Victor returned, rushing in and kissing him vigorously, releasing all the anxieties that had piled on him while he was away. He couldn't resist snapping a selfie of himself, Yuri, and Maccachin all together again at last. Habitually he went to social media but hesitated, thumb hovering over the submit button.

"You should post it. It's a great picture. I'm sure our fans will love to hear we're back at home together again."

"But...do they really deserve it?" Yuri sighed. Ever since the incident with the reporter his relationship with his social media and his fans had been venomous and slowly improving towards just tepid.

"Not all of them no, but the ones that formed search parties, and reblogged all your campaign posts to find me, and especially the ones that actually caught Reid. _They_ deserve it. I know it doesn't' feel like it but you do have loyal and kind fans too."

"Fine." It was mere minutes before they got loving and overjoyed responses from both their fans and Victor thought maybe, just maybe he could enjoy love his fans back again. Someday. Victor grabbed himself some food, stuffed a few more pillow around Yuri, not noticing his annoyed glare. They decided on another movie and he settled onto the couch with Maccachin sprawled on top of him and he knew instantly the poodle wasn't going to let him up anytime soon. Yuri drifted to sleep first and Victor knew he wasn't far off himself. He stroked Maccachin's ear softly letting the tiredness pull him under with a feeling of content. Yuri was right. They really were going to be okay.


End file.
